Anathema They Die
All tears, restrained for years Their grief is confined Which destroys my mind An ode to their plight is this dirge Some yearn for lugubrious silence Serenity in the image of the coffins Shall life renew these bodies of a truth? All death will he annul, all tears assuage? Fill the void veins of life, again with youth And wash with an immortal water, age They die.