Wretched sorrow
The sun is setting into seas of blood
Upon these pages are my soul and heart
If there are such things at all
Cold
Centuries of thought into decay
I watched your cities grow like putrid mould
Upon the lands of your ancestors' graves
A death-like silence
Falls upon you every night at dusk
Sorrow - hunger
Death will swallow all your cities up
Torn - asunder
The seven seals of the book of John
It reflects our own will upon ourselves
We planted seeds of our own death
A death that knows no race or creed
The stones will crush us all into the chasms
This end, however far, it lights a spark
The only light within the blackness of my heart.