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