Imagine being found,
The energy of life having drained away,
The music of the soul still emminating out,
The room aglow with warmth and light,
A quiet, answerless cry for love echoing through the cold and the dark.

But in the morning of reality and clearness,
The truth is cold,
The music over,
The energy long gone,
And the blood but dry stained on the floor,
The message now clearly recieved,

But its too late,
Its all too late.