The end is always closer to me, everything will fade away. Clouds hang heavy over the trees, the leaves are falling down. The cold scent of time brushes the wind, and I breath the fall and air. The red of the sky is piercing the ground, as the Autumn sun welcomes the changing sound.
Tearing away - and the end is always near, breaking away - and we're dying forever.
The distant fires are burning again, the taste of ash is so clear. An auburn stillness, smoke through the trees, where the empty cries far away.
We're running away from the things that we fear so the darkness succeeds in our heads. She crys on her own, alone in the field. The hole where she jumps, a slow swan dive to death.
Tearing away - and the end is always near, breaking away - and we're dying forever.
The change is forever.
The cold lights cut into my skin. My mind withholds to the burn, to the war, to the east, to the close end tearing away.