A voice of an angel she had

The soul of separate worlds had she

A saint to the devil she was

A savior to us all, some agreed

She did not agree, she agreed with her soul

Which she had sold to the devil, she thinks.

A reason to see sunrise, she had not

Until a girl, timid was she, showed up.

Then the saint to the devil would show the world

How like a devil was he.

So she could live in peaceful sunset.

But the world didn't understand her wordless tale

And she plummeted, farther than the eyes of them allowed to see

And the world still believed she was that saint, that saint to the devil was she.

And she remained in agony, the truth took the sky.

Exist, she does not.

Not anymore,

But as long as the voice of the angel, she has, sings on it's lies

Without her consent, she will stay on.

Lest another comes to tell the tales she cannot tell, then she will be free to sing of truth

And be not a saint, not a savior.

But sound.