he's getting violet.
turns the white flags blue, turns the grey flags pruple, turns the black flags silver
he's kissing snow white flakes in darkest forests, lonesome getting tired, lonesome getting snowed in, lonesome collecting his old love and enfolds her in the misty whitness.
getting slowley down and listning to his inner voices. telling just ever again of misty places.
into the end once again, starting the ever future, starting what has never become.
once again, he's getting viole(n)t.