such a wild river drives the stones the past year left on me the wounds I wish I could write about happier stuff but this is all what i get from my life it hunts me down the world of fire and kills on me the hope and desire then felt the cold goes like ice to hear my heart beats twice the badest clue for a hue to hold it's something was made by the god then deep subsides to deep a fine textures was made to sweep so dawn goes down to my day hold my chest as nothing left to say! light!, I think that I shall never see i know such things!, was not made for me! nor dreams nor feelings to attend just a man awaits his very end such a dry world that's killing all Dreaming and hoping small looms but the Horror of the shade Then at every gust the dead fade