The charred wood now stirs, somewhere truly lost
White haze to blur the years
The amber light, torturous writhe
Unconsciously enslaved and wrought, to the end
Siren by the drying brook, weak from this emptiness
That you feel, are you not just a dream?
Murder by the temple road, split from this existence
That you feared. This world will never be clean
Forlorn
Bittered, nevermore these words
Plagued by a chain of violent memories
Miles of winding orchard, weaving the ruins wide
Ceaselessly aflame and burning white
This weight
All, forlorn
Serotinal
I was prodigious
Strength, despite the cold asunder
Waste, in spite of life, you sacrifice
Winds, invite the dusty slumber
Time, relentlessly you destroy
A curse befalls dusk, somewhere truly lost
Unconsciously a slave to thought, in the end
Raging cataclysm, from the abysmal depths
Of the mind, escape the rising tide
Mist so unrelenting, under the jaded moon
Glowing through, a gift of amber bloom
This wait
Withered, nevermore this path
All of my peace has faded into dawn
Buried in the orchard, scalded of deception
Paralysed and silent as the grave