Wither & Wane - Ithaca

Searching for something on the outside

To scatter seeds that i will never sow

Waning, wasting on the inside

I found nothing at the end of the road

A blackened path

The flash of teeth

To light up the dark

For the long deceased

And now the grass is withering under my feet

I could say i’m sorry but i wouldn’t mean it

Searching for something on the outside

To scatter seeds that i will never sow

Waning, wasting on the inside

I found nothing at the end of the road

Wither (and waste away)

Running (from slow decay)

The unholy (speaks my name)

A blackened path do all obey

Wither (and waste away)

Running (from slow decay)

The unholy (speaks my name)

A blackened path do all obey