Speak, dear friend, has the void taken thee?

Did this realm become all too much to bear?

With your ghostly hand,

This once faithless man believes,

And with your frail touch,

I know what it is to grieve.

How I yearn for your solace, pale ghost,

How I yearn to walk these hallowed grounds forever.

With your ghostly hand,

This once faithless man believes,

And with your whispers faint,

The sorrow never seems to cease.

A life lost is the price we pay,

For every second in wasted day,

A fleeting glimpse of majesty,

Was all I had 'fore you were taken from me.

My frail phantom, disappear once more,

Before I follow you back into the dark.

I'll follow, forever, into the dark.