Vārdi: Epidemic. Decameron. Unknown.

Life, the meaning of death, unknown destiny how much time is left.
Living out the end never knowing when.
The plug will be pulled and you find the end.
Doomed, to uncertaintly, uncontrolled force controls reality.
Erosion of our lives, constant ticking.
The clock ticks as our hearts beating.

Grievance, anguish and pain, losses come cold, bitterness remains.
Fragile lives dropping like drips of rain.
Staring blankly into death's eyes again.
Innocence, dumbfounded faith.
Hope will bring nothing, darkness always waits.
Gripping as you wake, life's fragility, providence.
Of mortal lives we're leading unknown, unseen, unscathed.
The fragile lives we thought we once knew, to be, our own.
Controlled by our inner selves drained, in time, or taken.
The fear we never realized set, in place, and time life's mortality.

Controverting it's domain, permanence for whom it's slain.
Time and space come to a halt, exercised the right of fault.
Beyond sleep you will lie, freed from the flesh.
Spanning the plain, existence persists?
Stand or fall, do as you may, an open door will pave the way.
The final choice is only yours, fate you'll find behind the door.

Unknown to all, our minds to evade.
Eternally unanswered the question lays.
Mental block bars, repress the fear.
The future hid from knowledge certain to appear.
Burdened mind, for what we perceive.
Forced to live with knowledge of mortality.
Will we reach, step over the line.
Fall to fate, destiny, question unknown in our time.