=^..^= *** Scythe of Luna – Snowfields The silent grace Of dying world - Our wooden corpses It will enfold. In my dreams We’re running over The snowfields, snowfields. In my dreams We’re dying on the Snowfields, The snowfields. Holding my breath - It smells of you, But something is missing, Taken away. The silent grace Of wooden corpses Dressed of needles, Fading to pale grey. In my dreams We’re running over The snowfields, snowfields. In my dreams We’re dying on the Snowfields, The snowfields. Snowfields, snow feels. Trying to run away, I’m chased again By empty thoughts. Becoming numb, Words mixed with dirt. Thin faint scars, The reasons untold. Wearing ragged scarf, Tell if it doesn’t hurt. In my dreams, Trying to run away. I’m chased again By empty thoughts, Trying to run away. In my dreams We’re running over The snowfields, snowfields. In dead eyes the Pictures of the Snowfields, the snowfields. Burried under the stone, Corroded by creeping plague. Snowfields, snow feels. My fate is to be alone, Can never ever awake. Snowfields, snow feels. I try to catch my breath, The world around me failing. Blurried skyline is deaf To your last desperate cry. In my dreams We’re running over The snowfields. In my dreams We’re dying on the Snowfields, the snowfields. I try to catch my breath, The world around me failing. No chances left to break Out from this nightmare. ***