A Black Bile Fog Lyrics

Fog lifts revealing
Night's victims and victors
The struggle eternal
To stay green, to stay
Amidst all remaining
All that's turning gray
The cold aroma of a winter's fire
Warm memories overwhelm
They become dark all too soon
Like the day, last of days
Charred remnants become clear
Into oblivion, our past burned
For we are all but ashes
That have not yet turned
The lone call of a raven
Echoes through these woods
Like chambers of my memory
Upon the past I brood
Recollections, reminiscence
For the best of times I yearn
As we are all but ashes
That have not yet turned