All that remains is cradling the grave.
Rocking the burial ground that is left to decay.
And still, I say, still your heart’s mourning beat.
For even in defeat, dawn comes to greet some more.
Never wish death, for death wishes you.
Blooming the tombs and reviving the catacombs.
So go ahead. Wet these stones green with your tears if you so crave.
And all that remains shall cradle the grave some more.

NaaN (Now, always and Never)