Everything is extinguished.
The wind sings silence.
The hills are alive.
Not with the sound of peace.
The pines groan.
The plants wail.
The flowers are smeared with blood.
The peaks are in slumber.
Sunset spreads darkness.
The last ray of setting sun is bleak and desolate.
I bend before this conquering shadow of death.
The star no longer gleam.
The mist of death reigns the valley
Between Life and tears
The island of frozen existence.