A Bitter Shade Of Grey - The Drowning

Stone weighed this swollen tide

The leaden mass encroaching

Upon the weary and thick

Their laughter that runs with the bleak

Its rush expanding its hideous scorn

Sweeping away a faceless land

Where from the myre running consuming

In its own bitterness

Cometh the maker bringer of

The coldest plague unaware of its majesty

As they cling to slumber a swollen grave

Heeds to come foreboding shades of grey

In time his waters flow and release

A withered land still and silent wake

Relinquish their innocence washed away

So bury your dead here and bury them deep

For a swollen grave awaits their grey

Their wrath filled plight will usher in

In a age of mourning will stand for all to see

When their light was taken