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.

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...