Belakor - Outlive the Hand - GTP табы

In death she spoke of waiting
 Her final days were long
 These fields have changed since last she wept
 Before the silent throng

 She sits where childhood memories lie
 Above, beside, within them
 The carvings have outlived the hand
 Which bled to first begin them

 As features of the landscape merge
 The oldest trees are falling
 Awareness sweeps the view aside
 She stares as if recalling

 Seen first beyond the canopy
 They soon had reached the borders
 The clouds infused with burning breath
 Arrived from coldest corners

 The windswept valley hastens now
 As dying words are uttered
 From lips of earth and sapling''s strain
 Like leaves, her last thoughts fluttered

 Again it darkens overhead
 The knowledge of it stills me
 And when the water starts to fall
 Preserve the drop that kills me