---

Steel shall fall from skies

Turn our home to splinters

Ashes shall freeze the open eyelids

Says the prophet of the winter

And our souls unite in crumbling stone

Our flesh is sewed with splinters

What does it mean to fall?

Asks the prophet of the winter

He dreamt that death was a giant rectangular megalith

And there was nothing around

And he was afraid

Of how silent it was

So what does it mean to fall?

And who paints all the wrinkles?

Why do I sleep with clenched fists?

Wonders prophet of the winter