Winters Dying Day

This beauty unfolds, before generations grow oldOn that mist turns into mourns, to create this well known ancient loreUntil my dying day, winters dying dayAnd the mist separates the clouds from the grieving landThe trees, this landscape claiming the snow to forget the battles foughtYou are the silent whisper, the silent voice calling to come in winterFor I grasped the key to this portal in front of meDimensions far from here, I seekI'll findTo forget the battles foughtUntil my dying day, winters dying dayThis beauty unfolds, before generations grow oldOn that day mists turns into mourns, to create this well known ancient lore