Remembrances of the past,
are all I have that shall last.
My fear and sorrow grow,
And time it is slow.
Buy my sorrow will grow and grow and grow.

My memories of the past are all sad,
therefore I know they shall last.
No memories of the past, pain such as
the once pleasant memories of the past.

The raptor in me grows,
but hides in the billows of my soul;
till it may be seen and forever reign Queen.

But it shall not succeed,
for I know of it's treacherous deed,
and no more shall they please....
Those treacherous deeds