(no subject)

[fallenjudge]

Selling souls beyond death's toll,
while the evening wanes.
He comes in shades from white to gray,
each shade can seem so plain.
Through each shade we all can fade,
to wither til we are slain.
Each shade a step to slip and fall,
to break and crack with pain.
And in the end with each step we take,
we fake our lives in vain.
With each step, each shade, we die
our hearts become a drain.
Our blood to waste, tears to weep,
our bodies to be lain.
Ash to dust, dreams to rust,
emotion turns to grain.