Thinking over the laws of nature,
As the winds of autumn passed through his wrinkled face,
Tears flowing from his once twinkling eyes,
Agents of time stripped youth away from his body.
...
We were like the characters of a book,
Our destiny layed in the hands of the author,
He created us, made us fall in love,
And in the end parted our ways.
...
Life Is But An Autumn
Thinking over the laws of nature,
As the winds of autumn passed through his wrinkled face,
Tears flowing from his once twinkling eyes,
Agents of time stripped youth away from his body.
Looking at the mountains, thinking of eternity,
Gazes upon the boughs of Eden, forgetting divinity,
Searching for the life of the beloved in the valleys of death,
Battling for his lost life in the pit of mortality.