Video to be seen here
Withering,
smoldering,
disapperaing from the dusk of day.
Beginning to flee,
between the isolated branches,
where the green leaves used to be.
I stood there,
alone,
not a thought to my name.
Nothing to give.
Nothing to share.
Wiped like a blackboard.
My consciense erased
by the daunting sea of time.
The cold winds to autumn,
the dripping wet wind
sent shivers down my spine.
When would the silence
save me from eternal thunder.
Why would I want it to end?
Words by Philip le Févre Kruse