Like withered tree in winter's hold,
Pieces falling all around.
Sight lost in a once brilliant sky,
Now reduced to shades of pale grey.
What have I become?
What have I become?
[Chorus:]
My voice resounds, arms outstretched,
Embrace the end of days.
Reach to the skies, arms outstretched,
Embrace the end of days.
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End Of Days de Ra?