Twilight casting shadows low,

                  on the distant hill,

hearing sighs of love's lament,

                  where the heart is still.

Woeful memories wake the weary,

                 from eternal sleep,

moaning as they tread the pathway,

                 in the earth, so deep.

Never do they stop their journey,

                for the rest must follow,

all will fall into the mire,

                soon enough, you'll hear them call you...

Moonlight casting shadows low,

                on the distant hill,

hearing sighs of love's lament,

               where the heart is still.