I (Pathway)

All will fall
 All will sink
 All will drown
 All will fade with time
 All will fall
 All will sink
 All will drown
 All will fade with time
 I scan the horizon
 Watching, waiting
 To gaze upon the grey spine of the cathedral spire
 Piercing the clouds that swathe this blasted horizon
 A totem of the permanence within this fog laden expanse
 Eternal I am, yet each tread
 On these desolate soils
 And through these banks of rearing sedge
 Enervate me ever further
 The ghostly breath of winter enshrouds
 Reaper, Harvester
 Scourer of essence
 The inevitable embrace whispers from an endpoint yet to be
 Rotten wings spread with a torpid snap
 A roiling howl that promises only a bouquet of woe
 Gathering in volume, a colossal choir builds
 Unearthly presence bleeds shadow over a broken landscape
 Mists unfurl in a tide of unspoken promises
 Supplicating embrace of ten thousand forgotten threnodies
 Yet I can hear them... each and every one
 Wordless these paeans to harrowed incarnation
 Silence Raised to a deafening roar that shreds the senses
 Eyes and ears forced shut, I revel in abnegation
 And let my soul-sense wander
 Slithering bent fingers of gelid ghostliness
 Probe the blackened slopes of that stoic island
 Tomb or temple? Only the dead can know
 Their unrelenting mantra unveils naught save timeless prophecy
 And still... these wretched revenants whisper
 All will fall
 All will sink
 All will drown
 All will fade
 All will fall
 All will sink
 All will drown
 All will fade with time