Her New Life

[nicklz]

Song material with changes throughout. Thanks for reading and replying if you do.

"Her New Life"

There's a blank face in a portrait
Even though the features are clearly there
A badly painted picture with a flat, blank stare

Had she wept, suffering when darkness held her tightly
Did a smile ever define pallid lips
Paralyzed gaze never changing
From life to death

No inclination of emotion
Not even pain eluded to
A flat, blank nothing
What the artist drew

Glint of silver from his hands
Oozing new blood from a bottle
Glimmering puddle reflecting on the wall

As the cold sets in
The light is fading through the window
Tomorrow he'll begin

Fixed focused vision on his passion 
Artist, dual-roled, succumbed
Laid out for the canvas
Scent of lavender amid turpentine

No light reflected from her eyes
No hate or fear or calm
Still he can't lose her
He tries to give her new life
But all she has to give
Is a blank faced picture

As the cold sets in
The light is fading through the window
Tomorrow he'll begin

Not a sound from the world
As he lonely fills her grave

There's a blank face in a portrait
Even though the features are clearly there
A badly painted picture with a flat, blank stare

BJH
5/10/2009

[nicklz]

Revised, rewritten, remodeled. I've done more alterations on this than any other piece I've written. I think it's doing what I want it to with some help of some other writers' comments. I hope the storyline is perfectly clear now. I'd like to hear this either mellow metal or medieval minstrel sounding or both.

"Her New Life"

There's a blank face in a portrait
Even though the features are clearly there
A badly painted picture with a flat, blank stare

Had she wept, suffering when darkness held her tightly
Did a smile ever define pallid lips
Paralyzed gaze never changing
From life to death

Grave after grave lines the hillside
Willows and pressed hands carved in stone
Short, bearded man's seen them all

Her lifeless body lies before him
Like so many others trusted to his hands
But her face captures his mind

Melancholy overwhelms him
He imagines her voice, her scent
Adoring hesitation in his eyes

Even in death she's beautiful
Scent of lavender and cedar masks death's scent
Glint of silver scalpel in his hands

Oozing new blood from a bottle
Glimmering liquid reflects against the wall
Once living fluid drained, discarded

As the cold sets in
The light is fading through the window
Tomorrow he'll begin

Fixed focused vision on his passion 
Artist, dual-roled, succumbed
His easeled canvas prepared beside her

Much to his frustration,
His brush takes a mind of its own,
And creates another soul

Unable to enliven her features
Palette a blur of muddied colors
The turpentine burns his nose

No inclination of emotion
Not even pain eluded to
A flat, blank nothing is what the artist drew

No light reflected from her eyes
No hate or fear or calm
Still he can't lose her
He tries to give her new life
But all she has to give
Is a blank faced picture

As the cold sets in
The light is fading through the window
Tomorrow he'll begin

She's cushioned in floral slumber
The nails are driven in
To the hillside he takes her

Not a sound from the world
As he lonely fills her grave

As the cold sets in
The light is fading through the window
On a blank face in a portrait
Even though the features are clearly there
Standing in the corner
A badly painted picture with a flat, blank stare

BJH
5/10/2009 -6/3/2009  -6/7/2009