As the snow falls and covers the land, as the time comes for fall to end, does the forest grow tense in the moons waning light? Or is it just us as we slowly lose our will to fight? What will the spring bring when winter is done, and what does it say to those who have gone? How can the rays of summer survive, when all we have left is a fight for our lives? When all is said and done when it all falls down to is it really worth anything after all this time? As the world gets colder and becomes hard to see through this thick fog that does surround me. What will be said? What shall be done? If our world was to fall under the strength of just one. But this knowledge is far just out of my reach for I shall lay dead long before this is to be. And when all in this world ceases to matter, just like the petals of a rose. Thus kindly, I scatter. But before that happens just know this: I never meant to hurt you, even though you're left to a world of madness. So don't cry dear one, weep not little rose for I am always with you even if you never know.