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Silent memories,

Of an old wood dawn,

Haunting, lurking - festering

A consuming death, grasping

Forlorn souls, wandering, murmuring,

Waiting in the night and crying

Release me! Free me!

Oh, the voices! The pain of eternal torture.

This life has no meaning.

It is cold, utterly cold.

The new dawn rises and the cold falters,

A warmth has bid its salutations,

The warmth that grants new purpose,

A warmth unkindled, a flame of old has embraced me,

The death, the cold - no more.