Analysis of Corrosion

Your autumns like the moon always change
 They never stay to a degree
 Revealing to me a plan-
 No, your hand like land
 Time hewed to submit
 And all I've writ
 Is but a precipice on the verge of erosion

You spoke of stars,
 But what of them?
 They guide you night,
 But only magnify my shroud
 The one your autumns bring
 The one your eyes enlighten

The cold veil is upon me
 Like a raven obsessing over death
 But I wait—
 For I know
 Your autumns change
 And time erodes what it does not waste.