rhys-tyack

All things die
All kingdoms fall
Every waking hour
Incessantly recall
Grim reaps all

Drip by drip
Burn
Till wicks end

Choice, who here decides?
Pleasure beguiles, sets purpose via
Once voice strewn, lost through
Millions of cries in the continuum
Each time you blink your eyes
There is a glimpse
Behold! Nothingness!

Slaves to your own demise
What's the point prolonging?
When you are coming forth by day

Grim reaps all

All the while vitality escapes
Eternity succumbs to imminences of fate
Familiar pulsating rhythms will terminate

So what's the point?
Grim reaps us all
Coming forth by day