In the nights we prayed for the moon.
In the days we begged for the sun.
Yellow waves lashed onto the ragged shore,
Littered with the remains of a prosperous past.
The rain that washed away all the inhibitions of the heart,
Now leaches into the same, melting it away.
Days of fragrant roses gave way
To the putrid stench of decadence.
While exuberant nights of making snowmen
Melted away to heaps of grey ashes.
As hearts gather at the edge of anticipation
Writhing in pain, anguish
Suffering at the tormenting memory of a beautiful past,
We pray to the gates of Valhalla
May tomorrow's dawn be dusk forever.
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