(A WINTERSUNSET... [1996])
Lifeless they fall apart... golden as our
precious art... My love sinks into a thick
grey veil of mist.
Trees... leafless trees... the epitaph of
the sun. What once was green presents now
grey and trist.
A gloomy grave... a foreseen death...
a symbol for our pain... drowned in a
flood of autumn rain.
Silhouettes of light astray somewhere
in the clouds. Ravens traverse, involving
withering shrouds...

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