اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Left frozen in an eloquent November's mist
We stand naked waiting for December to rise.
Bloodsoaked in love as we yearn for lust
And we die in our frostbitten memories.
I take my final walk between the bare trees
When dawn strikes, I'll return to my field.
This is where I gaze upon the eyes of you
And empty trees will be bleached with winter.
