Texty: Catamenia. Morning Crimson. Passing Moment Of Twilight Time.

Sometimes we forget, what has once been
and all the beauty we have seen
forlorn from our minds,

now twisted or disguised
what once gleames above the sky.

December loves the lonely souls
daughters and sons, that no one mourns
belief in life as soon it begins... to fall.

Time of darkness tears it down
what is now buried down below