The rain I fear kills again.
We sacrifice the ways of time.
There is a ghostly morgue.
Painted the day, a haunting cast of moon.
I got us flowers for my second doom.
I fear white ghosts like me,
The tidings of October.
I paint myself like all sky.
Die!
Into the blue, someone has to die.
I already did, deep in October.
Fear all those nights of pain.
My soul, is it dying?
Break my wings.
I’ve lost it all.