Writting by Candledark (revised)

The candles blown out, streams of smoke stem upward Their lives snuffed out, so as to dwell in the emptiness Pressed against a wall, a prison without bars for free men Gasping for air and relief, looking to give me some hope Stumbling through the deep snow, a flood runs over my soul His hands trembling icy cold, like the death that grips Wanting to warm himself, his heart and his desperate soul Run for help to no avail, finding no one to be a true friend Physically stronger everyday, reaching the climax the prime Yet cowers in a corner, feeling the loneliness and pain Writes a letter by candledark, that he will never send Fears gives an impression, a person could never understand Alas the truth gives way, for now the lies remain but It now does certainly show, they really dont want to know Grim reaper's at my back, time has come to pass the test Yet in the struggle and the fight, not one soul could help the blight The virus of lies tells us we're all alone in darkness