You, that may wither
Ved buens ende
A distant cry...
From what I perished for?
No....
It was born...
The winterburden.
I bled its tears once...
Oh, if only it could wither,
wither in the absence of my thoughts.
From what I perished for?
No....
It was born...
The winterburden.
I bled its tears once...
Oh, if only it could wither,
wither in the absence of my thoughts.
So I cry...
I cry, not only for my spirit in its living shell.
But for the ones who brought the lust through me...
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