Electric green turning solid black, such a severe loss and never coming back. Haunting, misty melancholic music ripping through my skull, but saved me many of my darkest days. So blunt and arcane, a lyrical genius, how each line stroked my longing, pathetic soul. An enduring giant of volcanic verse and how they stifle quickly up my veins. His words fill my heart and linger profusely in my parched throat. Such an ugly, black hole void is left while this dreadful mourning never ends. This woe is infinitely within this benign existence as the clock ticks slowly since seven years have passed. The night never comes and delivers only a season of dark, like a sinking pyre, the green spell has been cast.