Falling, falling lives entwined are ever cold and dying on the vine,
for grey and ashen skies fill with souls lost forever in mortal worlds.
Hold the heart in sorrows hand and beat a steady drum upon the
wind of time that breaks the life, cold and dying on the vine.
Look to the past o ' weak and torn, the craven fall to winters endless
grasp and cherish those up high who sit and wait for the given
sign of countless lives cold and dying on the vine.
Look to where the sun does set and shed the tears of hope and pride
whose bitter memories fill my mind with longing for the end of time
to take my life cold and dying on the vine.

Deep meaning
Nycc !! :)