THE COLOR OF DEATH
Dance in the rain; Azrael the bedeviled one.
Giving his chance, he knows the way.
Chanting the spells enlightened within; such sphere of myth.
A spell for sorrow, weakness the same.
Know thy path as it lay bare its fold.

Call on the wind, its hurling fury.
To ride in the east or lay to sleep.
Bring to weakness the might lying within.
A call to the wild: A shout to the sea.
Cast in fury the spell of the mage's tears.

The earth holds its breath,
Her sea, her wind all fairy same.
In spark for fire, to blow a wind?
Whilst all stand in rage and might they fail:
No spell for peace the heart beats a few.

For love it cries, for hate it feels.
Azrael, whereupon you lay your fame?
beneath you they stay the same.
A blessing to you, A curse for them.
A spell to heal, the pain they writhe.

Where you sail, so they fail,
And to death they find its color frail...