The Crown

In bitter winds of our creation
The dead wood writhes in disdain
From the eyes of forgotten shrines
Rain tears onto graves that beareth no name

And I'll paint this pallid canvas in frost
On a pilgrimage of harbored guilt and pain
As the sun sets forever upon us all
Sheltering my restless gaze
A maze of recollection
And effigies of weathered stone

Of all the ruin we've come to beget
And will never here atone
This crown lay upon my head
Fading with me into the everblack
Of all we've come to reap
To dream alone in endless sleep