In the wee hours of the night
When the gods see no light
All men will fight

This land has been shattered
Wiped clean of every existence
Only lost souls would've asked if it ever mattered

Is it irony to find beauty in such emptiness?
It is tragic that you call this magic
Only madness would make you claim it as happiness

I want to meet the person in my head
But their voice has gone quiet, are they dead?
All I hear are the infrequent rolling of pearls
And if I close my eyes I am trapped in their whirls

Take me back again and again
Faded memories in that somber film noir