Clouded Say

Lost in the mist of clouded say
another chance fades away.
Beyond all that can be thought
and beyond all who will consort
to the loss of another time
of that which would have been mine.

Sung in the hall for empty kings,
dressed in antique worthless things,
clad for all your value is worth
not even priced your weight in dirt.
Want of items that can't be bought.
Desiring things of all manner of sort
as you would have yourself believe.
Yet another wasted worthless eve.

Time drags by, days grow thinner.
Winter settles on out and inner.
But the blast of the wind can't compare
with the grip of the cold so harsh in there.
The days will warm and that is certain
but when will the say ever stop the hurting?

But one goes on as always has done,
living life day to day, one by one.
Winter comes and winter goes,
the leaves fall, the leaves grow.
Yes the days will warm and that is certain
but when will the say ever stop the hurting?