Groza IV

The water has kept me. The forest for all. Without the wind, birds. So no more. Cold, Cold heavy the rain on your eyes. Cold, You'll wish they'd shiver, Feel your pain. The figure you have lost. And you are holding it. Does your cold fire know? Holding it near. And does your heart know? Root of the leaf. And does your dark blind? It will arrange. As the dropping of great Religion, a soul loses Sense from within. The witness and fear in this dreaded Fear. A vast range of grief, Sorrow and despair. At last, This the world will know our Name.