Dead to a Dying World
cicatrix
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Behold, as the aeons change,
Hints of life flicker once more.
The dust of the old world
Still falls around us.
Memories of low concussions,
Haunt the days.
Myria, count the years of failure.
Each day more gray than the one before.
Each day more gray than the one before.
Soon all the trees in the world will fall.
Each day more gray than the one before.
Each day more gray than the one before.
We shall not bring new life into a dying world.
Each day more gray than the one before.
Blood is the only thing within the hearts of men.