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lirik lagu garden of remembrance – avandra

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walking beyond this unnaturally crumbling gate
under a moon that never wanes
i perceive roses that wither with every p-ssing day

a garden floor strewn with petals of stories never told
of lives never to unfold
silent caresses no heart will ever hold

seething with anger at the decay that i see
waiting on justice for the guilty to bleed
to thrust them away from their timeless reveries

dawn shaping the advent of what is to be
of silent deaths and quietly spoken decrees
these are the souls of remembrance

with every rose there’s a story to tell
past memories that now agelessly dwell
(memory) (dwells)
beneath a sea of ruins and waves of heart shaped sh-lls
drowning voices within a wishing well

i hear the desperate cries below
descending further more into the unknown
scaling the walls with heartened tones
only to be sunk by voices yet unshown

trapped inside walls of ash and stone
paying tribute solely to skull and bones
revenants that arise with scornful tones
decaying remnants of all these broken homes

with every rose there’s a story to tell
past memories that now agelessly dwell
awaiting their time with each toll of the bells
or for a savior
a deliverance from this h-ll

twice the great monoliths rise above clouds
spiraling towers of both fear and doubt
chastising all who oppose their devout

dark eyes that see all who enter and leave
this garden of grief that to death serves as eve
watchful guardians remain unseen

fear traps me inside of myself
paralyzing my clarity’s health
chanting words of wealth and greed
self-knowledge shall forever set me free

with every rose there’s a story to tell
past memories that now agelessly dwell
beneath a sea of ruins and waves of heart shaped sh-lls
drowning voices no fire can easily quell

burnt eyes that trace my every move
i favor dying souls with living boons
as i make my way in full lit moon
fog ridden paths through murk and gloom

reaching my sanctuary’s hold
far from the goliaths whisperings uncontrolled
no more will i ever mourn
the disembodied bellows of the sworn

with every rose there’s a story to tell
past memories that once agelessly dwelled
no longer awaiting the toll of the bells
or for a savior
a deliverance from this h-ll

see the man
planting roses beside a riverbank
hoping to find
a way to
revive their lives
torn by those so vile

who saw them as simple means to find
an unjust end to another lie
but as promised justice made its call
to make them bleed
and from their blood new life came to be

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