Waken by the scream of a buzzard. Sending cold shivers down his back. . Now across the barren desert gallops a horse. The only thing alive maintaining hope.
The groan of wind a hiding deadly disease. A killer that hides in the wind. And cannot be seen. A powerful enemy a threat that truly exists. By a hair hung our lives.
And she walks her way so treatled. Leads away from the bless she's earned. Gone away the meaning. Before the day against the morning. . Down the path of the blind souls she walks.