Origin of a Crystal Soul

As the sun rises through fallen autumn leaves
The poor gather under bare trees
Wondering how to survive, 'cause winter is coming
And ancient coldness now awakens from a deep sleep

Free me, Lord, from death, eternal on that dreadful day

It's December 14th, 1503, as those above cease their mourning
As the chosen one arrives - destined to foresee - something changed without warning!
(Free me, Lord, from death, eternal on that dreadful day)

It was born in the time of the Christian God
A boy - as the legend goes - with the Creator's ability
To see what will be, hidden, unrecognized
For he with the reputation of a heretic would be publicly burned

The hand, reaching for beauty, bleeds from the rose's thorn
The greed of men punished by God's wrath
He, the mirror of your soul, feels the sorrow, pain, grief
He, the bearer of this name: Michael of Notre Dame