The Golden Day was coming; the Golden Day was on the way. The Golden Day was here, but now know the Golden Day is gone. It had my mind quite a while ago, now it has my heart for as long as it beats its weak death thro. So once again I lay face-down on the ground. I tried to stand in my own strength, cursing the weakness of my fragile legs. But my stamina fell under the weight of your stare. I had fallen so far that rock-bottom was over my head; I had figured that death was a treat to those who had gone so long without bread and drink. But now I see that I was once more a fool.  I would try now to touch you, but my hands are held down with the heaviness of my tears and other's blood. Here is my sword, loose my bonds so I can swing it in freedom's name. I'll give you what is left of my life if you give me something worth losing it for. In what seems like an eternity ago I gambled away my mind on passing enjoyments. And then traded my heart on false diamonds When I picked them up, they just weighed me down. Ah, what I did do to turn that simple life around. All that time I was holding a single hope, a silent wish, the wish that I would always be stronger than the strength of death. As I draw my sword, I can feel the lightning that flashes 'long the razor edged blade. Now the only way I am letting go of my wish, is to get a better grip. Still, I can not help but wonder why they call the past horrors the Golden Day...