Get acquainted to
her unsightliness for she...

Now is what fastens
past and prospects together...

Wolves disguise as lambs,
though still slaughter lambs like wolves...

Silver bullet kills
the wolf in us, silver moon...

We are still here but
no one ever outlasts...

All of me is there
reflected in the river...

"Why is the fading flower so sad?"
-Asked the tearful child...

Stretching our branches to prospect
spreads our roots in the pasts...

Endlessly looking
in the things that tend to end...

When the truth is due
though your voice turns skew...

It shines in your eyes
before it is dulled with what...

Horizon is the
conundrum of terminus...