If there was one thing, I could swear,
by morning's love, or night's despair.
To you, my dear, the word 'goodbye',
will not be said, not shout nor sigh.
...
I begin mercilessly, against my will.
I try my best to stop, but I can't.
I keep going.
The lush burgundy veil overflows.
...
The fears that I have never shown,
will now be seen and all be known.
The times I've lost, times left behind,
once were forgotten, set out of mind.
...