The wind whispers of the wounded, words weighted with woe, As those that are melting in this sweet crimson flow. Screams stinging the ears of their silent shadows As the stain of their spring does slow. Simple thoughts do spawn of you; their simple god, Handing their fate, looking back, knowing 'twas too late. All that now remains are those burning crystals in the sun. That run, with the flow, To a shore; The shores of infinity; evermore. Litter upon us we let them lay beneath us, As though it were better that way. That we tread upon them in death as we did in life. Remember thus; One day you too shall fall to the earth As you have shunned thy kin. And so you will rue the day that life did you in. You are next, to be lost in that sea of evermore. That sea of their fears, a sea of their tears, The tears of the nevermore.