The Fateful Hour - Forced To Submit

Darkest places in your mind
Clouds your senses it makes you blind
To all your inner hate it shows upon your face
I see through your withered eyes
I know you are dead inside

Alas these mortal eyes look upon the lonesome grave
Where no one mourns this hollow heart is grasping for another
Someone to hold, someone to touch help me
What have you, what have you done this cannot all be gone
What have you, what have you done your face was my last sun