Unsummoned کے بول

Now is the third season The season I don't long Cause it is here And you are gone You were the Incubus Who raped my sleeping mind Awake - pain was the master I crawled in a chasm But now Unsown seeds germinate Unplanted trees bear fruits The spell is broken Unsummoned reveries gather Unwinged thoughts fly Wind rapidly swings its arms Takes fruits from the trees And flings them away But what's ripe falls Nevertheless To the ground