End of the Harvest

Succumb to the new and give way
Old fields will fail (memory)
Yielding crops of rock and dust
A book lies open
Its pages crumble at your touch
Words breed lies (writhe)
Wind feeds fire unseen
Have you ever tasted the soil (destiny)
And felt your own death in your veins?
Shield your eyes from the moon (found them all)
As it mocks your wretched self
With fire in your heart
The truth lies clear
Words breed lies (writhe)
Wind feeds fire unseen
Bend your thoughts
Unveil your soul
Now drink, revive
Reach, scrape and bind