Low and behold the grass that folds In winds along a plain The blood on grounds spilled for crowns Thousands lay there slain But in the night and coming dawn That brings the God of Death We see the world in a flash And with the endless depth That comes about when one will cry For the end to come But lives on until they see Their destiny through and done
TheCrossedNova · Sat Jun 21, 2008 @ 08:07am · 0 Comments |