Mist cloaked dormant rivers The cimmerian shades became sole season The bleak moonscapes can shed a tear Time went away. A silvery night, when your embrace becomes dust The Sienna skies, in a garden of mistrust While the heavens burn in frame of lie In the death of your dream, in the dead of night. Silhouettes eluded from my closed eyes, From my dream, from my dimness. I've let the wind of clay wear out my eyes, I've let the solemn air overcome me. A silvery night, when your embrace becomes dust The Sienna skies, in a garden of mistrust While the heavens burn in frame of lie In the death of your dream, in the dead of night. We carelessly stay and behold the silvery way The banks of our dying world, our empty rivers We could scream, bleed or cry all our sullen tears This is our last hour, This is our last time.