Ask for what you want before you know what you had, and you get what is not promised. |
Granted Sorrows Counted are the days stained with the posion of regret Each infested memory becomes a twisted reality of failure Too great is the price payed in beats of broken hearts and faded dreams When days turn black to night painful cries bellow for yesterdays lost Each breath desired to be the last He thinks his time left is a punishment A sick game played in the arena of tourment Can it be that victory comes with the death dealer's presence Life, a precious gift How does it become the curse of a man so engulfed in inner misery When was the line crossed that light transformed all to darkness A guest in his own living hell But days loved have become a life never lived Just as the dealer's hand extends his ivory finger he knows A recognition of all that has been wasted This man has become a soul without purpose Each memory comes back He has been to these places The love he was once capable of sharing is now there The secrets of life are lost no more Now he has found his past But he will not live on His tomarrow will not come The end to this game how bitter it tastes The victory that has turned to defeat |