King of WormsCome Winter,the living die existing in post-mortem:illusion of life.Spring turns a new leaf,cutting away dead bitsnew life growingphoenix-like from ashes.Summer ignites our soul,careening joyful and contentinto the arms of life.Fall creeps slowly,that which is greennow is orange and brown;Sleeping is our lie.the King of Worms brings his blessings.