Across the field a dark cloud descends.
The fruits of summer have reached their end.
The reaper's shadows have all gone astray.
The shadow consumes with each dying day.
chorus:
From the vine falls stillborn one.
severed life source, frozen sun
After the winter the crops reappear,
less than before, but sprouting from tears.
The drops transform at the sight of new light,
the shine, reflecting a glimmer of life
Each sprout is a window to a life we once knew.
A nine month path one life from two.
