What is it that gets you hopes and dreams to break?

Could it be love or the darkness by the lake.

Your euphoria will soon die, and you will pass on by.

You die a little inside every time you look into my eyes.

Yours the color as the bright blue skies.

I've been shot down at a dead mans wedding, and blood is still spreading.

I've been consumed in your darkness that drains the life out of me.

The world still wonders what this "darkness" is, its her love, like a dead dove that makes us feel.

You push me back and then wait for my curse to take effect.

The crow is the only bird I thoroughly understand.

The bird of death, not for anyone to understand.

As it carries a great burden, so do I.