Rozrywa Szwy Ciszy

The Bellringer Will Come Forth - Wrinkled Like Autumn Earth - And Pull the Long Legs of Hanged Men Like a Rope

Under the Lost-In-Thought Grave of Clouds - Over Leaves Like Bloody Tears

Arks Carry the Heads of Decapitated Moons to the Other Shore

Wings Torn From Ravens Line the Streets Where the Dead Walk

Into Autumn I Flow Smaller With Every Step Into Fields Sown With Specters - Onto Columns of Dead Paeans