Grief of the Fallen

Golden time is coming to the end, image of autumn devastation is stretching Before your eyes - the wind is playing with sombre landscape of naked trees. Leaves - black carpet is covering the recently pinched by cold ground. As if bewitched you are coming into sacred place. In the temple of eternity your traces will remain On thousand expired lives, which sometime trembled into breathing of wind. And now... The final desire - to burn down in fire. But autumn denial sends them to decay. Word of the preacher is told, and fateful lives are perpetrating great Mass suicide, but it is only the beginning of their painful way. In cold beams of the sun all around has seemed wasted and gave birth To feeling of load in soul - grief about something that was lost forever. Rustle of the blackened leaves as if anxious heartrending whisper is permeating into your ears. They as believed, but in the Doomsday nobody ascended and were overthrown in dirt. And now... The final desire - to burn down in fire. But autumn denial sends them to decay. The final desire - to burn down in fire, but falling is dire. They must fade to grey. The autumn smiled with scary deadly grin. Golden time is coming to the end...