The Forsaken Chapel

In shadows deep, where moon doth barely gleams. Upon the night, where phantoms softly scream. There lies a chapel, old and full of woe, where spirits whisper tales of long ago.

O Lord of Light, who shuns this hallowed ground, where sorrow’s breath doth weave a mournful sound. We, humble souls, do seek thy grace and might, to cleanse this place from shadows of the night.

In ivy’s grip, the stones do sigh and weep, the echoes of the past in silence creep. A maiden’s cry, a knight’s forsaken plea, lost in the void, where none but shades can see.

O wretched fate, that binds us to despair, in life’s cruel jest, we find no solace there. Yet through the dark, we raise our hearts in prayer. To break the chains of anguish we must bear.

From crypts below, where restless bones do lie, to shattered windows framing haunted sky. We call upon thy mercy, pure and bright. To banish specters, bringeth forth the light.

O hear our plea, thou ruler of the morn, for in thy grace, our spirits are reborn. Though shadows loom, and night doth endless seem, thy love shall guide us through the darkest dream.

In twilight’s grasp, where horror finds its hold, our weary souls, by grief and dread made cold. Do seek thy warmth, thy light of endless day? To chase the haunting fears and wraiths away.

So, heed our cry, O Lord of Heaven’s sphere, and in thy mercy, wipe away each tear. For though the night is long and full of pain, thy dawn shall come, and we shall live again.