You would call out into your restless night,
“I need an Angel that will end my fight, one that brings daybreak upon my endless night.”
But the storm raged on, unwavering.
Across the waves a witch arose from the sea,
Darkness bloomed from her every step.
Upon her lips, she whispers, “This isn’t over yet.”
She beckoned to my stormy sea, with a smirk and wry affinity,
And from the waves her terrible ship came sailing;
With black sails waving and her dark eyes flaming
My heart was set, and it was blazing.