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At Sixes and Sevens

In times of strife

you seem to lose it all, and more somehow

No waning life can retrieve it

Can't make the world a better place to thrive

nor can I keep on persistingYou're on the wane in funereal winds

with a thousand winters within

You're life unveil its weary eyes

Sun sets in somber skiesYour waning desires brought to fire

where your withering life has been mourned

For a thousand years, where the pain blend with ire

and the night enflames us both"Walk down the narrow path

Years of decay

Feel life's soul-inflicting hurt once again"You're dying now

You make it feel somewhat divine

Your lenient eyes are somewhat healing

You make it feel the less a strife now

A precious life cease persistingYou're on the wane and eden's hewn

falter still under a funereal moon

Your tears they sweep upon life's shore

until the day you weep no moreSunset's on the wane

In life we suffer the same

When sundown comes around

stalking strangers on hollowed ground

Endarkened souls entwined

together at the end of life

Embrace the new divine

or suffer another lifetimeI can feel the flames

the fire lick me in vain

My life can't be regained

not now, nor then, nor ever again

We cross our feeble hearts

the day our souls depart

Life move in strangest ways

We died somewhat, somehow in every day

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