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The gracious source of tears. |
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I cherish you. |
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Highly I love the images you create. |
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If I can`t be touched by you, let me dream of you at night. |
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Gloomy creations... |
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The dead arise... |
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Low they whisper to eachother. |
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All signs of life is ending, as you hear the funeral bells. |
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Life is overclouded. |
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Empty for months to come. |
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The mournful time is closing in. |
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Beauty in the name of sadness. |
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Autumn is the sorrow. |
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Come to me my dear. |
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The season of mourning has arrived. |
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I become the spirit of grief. |
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Autumn turns to winter, and makes me what |
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I am... ... |
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A sad being with a cold heart. |
