Watch the morning turn to night,
Watch the restless birds take to flight,
  Pull down the curtain of transgression,
Your sins can be the confessions and thorough impression.
   They will remember you,
    All you have done and what you didn't do.

Despair lays in the wake of disaster,
Much less the years after it's alabaster slate is slowly waning,
Slowly evaporating.
Drape the curtain over our eyes,
What we see if the prize.

alas, The snow covers our trails and ash covers our corpse.
We lost to heaven at the torch,
For many times forgettable.
Melt away the snow and sweep away the ashes.

Oblivion craves yet resilience staves

Often does the sun shine to spread its vibrant rays,
Upon the Stoney, marble surface of those whose souls had to stay.
Pay homage to these fellow men who cannot move and will not rend,
Tell from these names who had passed before their time,
Inevitable date when which their souls were confined.
The ground never sleeps nor will it ever stop,
Passive aggression transition to a morose retention.
We all know it true, not even blood will stop its rage.
When the clock goes to ticking, our lives will stop and fade.
Take in the dark suns low-light days, compare it to a bashful way.