There is no moon All the stars are gone The seas are fast asleep The heavens swoon at long-dead gods. The End begins to creep. The sun's burnt out all nature's withered. The birds shall sing no more.
No fountains sprout. The hunt is tethered. Can't the lions roar? Trees have melted dead and buried in the silence of the spring.
No rain has pelted no living being is left to feel the sting.