Black sun on a sea of ash. Darkness falls; light is not coming back. The raven calls in the midnight hour. All that is left in the garden are uprooted flowers.
Summer is dead like the corpse of time. Frozen in place; bound to ground within twine. The little lights no longer shine. All is darkness in the land of the blind.
Tears mark the route he took, To a place without any good luck. The tricks are played like a funeral dirge. All is dirt. All around are the widows in white. The only black dresses are saved for the brides. This is another day of eternal night. City of angels who have lost their lives.
Broken dreams lay in the gutter and doorways. The only lights left are the fires that rage. Death is written on every page.