The forlorn angel stands alone,
Above the steps of battered stone.
A sulleness upon her face,
Her mind set in some distant place.
The troubled beauty in her eyes,
Like the clouded, turmoiled skies;
Touches something deep inside,
A feeling I have tried to hide.
An emptiness within my heart,
That tears away at every part.
Destroying all that I hold dear,
And I shed a single tear.
But my heart does rescue me,
From my immortal misery.
Reminding me that I have love,
A streaming becon from above.
Within this light I proudly kneel,
But from my mind a thought does steal.
My heart with flame of pain is burned,
For my love is not returned.
Rememberance destroys my mind,
A need for life I cannot find.
And as I cry with head in hand,
The forlorn angel still does stand.
She lifts her head and looks at me,
Her sullen sadness I still see.
But in her eyes there's something more,
At least that is what I hope for.
Compassion now is what I need,
For my heart must surely bleed.
But in her eyes I am now lost,
These days what does what does pity cost?
Nothing's different, nothing's new,
It's still the same distorted view.
She cannot see me as I am,
The lonely and forsaken lamb.
I remember now what I do show,
A happiness that's light as snow.
And this is how I seem to all,
As I hide behind my wall.
The forlorn angel sees no better,
I only wish that I could let her.
If I could tell her what to see,
I would tell her to see me.
Unto her eyes I still pretend,
For sadness is my only friend.
The truth's a foe I dare not brave,
I'm safe behind a gentle wave.
The forlorn angel still is there,
Standing on the concrete stair.
But beyond the flesh and bone,
It is me who stands alone.
