The sounds of the worms marching, the thud of foul earth shrouds with a reminder. Where is the angels song? Have the ears grown so deaf? Gentle tickle of the heart strings felt no more. Passion dies in the womb of love. Darkness falls before the warmth of the mornings light. Where is the angels song? Search not the empty soul for the dust of the earth has swallowed the dreams. Emptiness consumes passion. And Passion explodes with the next moments passing. Time halts not, and yet it moves for no one. The sun holds its place and the shadow move not in the heart of pain. For, tomorrow is today and forevermore is only a start, for the grief dieth not.