Streams sighing
Laughter dying
Flowers moaning
Rocks groaning
Trees falling
Death calling
What shall happen to us all?
Sunshine fading
Frost invading
Meadows graying
Flesh decaying
Blood trickling
Thorns prickling
All our land is sure to shall fall
Darkness clinging
No birds singing
Streams draining
Shadows gaining
Maggots crawling
Babys bawling
Around us darkness drapes her shawl