The sun feels colder as it shines
through this aging stained glass,
decorated in such inspired design
of stories and heroes now-surpassed.

Such a glimmering lens standing vast
consumed my eyes while the smoke
swirled up and rose to climb past,
to choke the sun out from that window.

Two ravens, with my heart, sink low
to perch upon weather-worn pillar;
the winds carried them, as I overflow.
Drowning in my my own burgeoning river.

It's only myself, to myself, I've reviled,
draining out my heart, I wore the saddest smile.