Ashes fall on the tongue of time,
we taste the ruin, we taste the rhyme.
Stone hearts crack beneath the frost,
every memory we loved is lost.
O cold wind, carry the flame,
whisper her name, whisper her name.
Night devours the last red gleam,
yet in the dark we still dare dream.
Let the embers drift apart,
ink of sorrow on snow-white art.
From the hush a new song grows,
rooted deep where no one goes.