The autumn breeze on a dusky night,
beholds the whispers,
of the dead, the dark,
the nature's slain arouse a fright
...
The times are dark,
as evil hails,
while men despise,
her angry wails.
...
The Autumn Breeze
The autumn breeze on a dusky night,
beholds the whispers,
of the dead, the dark,
the nature's slain arouse a fright
Among those still in strife,
In search of life,
Who dare to look beyond
the wail of the decayed,
the rumble of the yellow,
the calm of the shade
As they wait to rest,
to end their quest
The ones yet to shine,
still captive in their shrine,
will rouse from the tombs,
of the dead and the divine.
As nature takes again its course,
devoid of bliss, without remorse.