The elk moans
Bending under the weight of cells
Years before the passing
Of demonic wealth
The leaves wail the sadness of
Those stricken silent
To be of the growth and of the end
To be of the growth and of the end
Solid be the fragments of heart
And its continued diminishment
Judged and remembered time and again
As one to underestimate and ever feel
Time's cold push cannot disintegrate
Such longing and such regret