The dying tree haunts the young one's light
As the bark divulge its secrets...

(Continued from The Night Bird and the Apostate)
The dying sun has shunned the last of its light...

Shivered Autumn
Like restless souls in the sky...

Your Dreamland,
Colored into...

The Apostate was clear
He didn't want to believe...

The dark forest edged upon
the fields of running blood...

She exhales the cruel words of hurt,
that rise and fall like gentle...

I was dreaming of dying again.
on a comfortable couch...

You've come a long ways
to say and do the little things...

It is I who have dreamt too long,
through the once quiet forest...