The sun is waning, 
the earth getting cold,
the rivers are slowing,
as night's hand takes hold.
 
The bottles are empty,
the bread's gone stale,
the table deserted,
flesh is turning pale.
 
The leaves have fallen,
the paths are lost,
the birdsong over,
floor's hard with frost.
 
The door is shut,
the house it is dark,
the souls stuck outside,
are naked and stark.
 
The laughter has ceased,
the smiles are broken,
the memories are ashes,
all final words are spoken.