The void is soaking up the sound,
Swallowing the fading colors.
My consciousness turns inside out —
I'm back into the ravaged garden.
In a flowerbed of beheaded lillies,
Our mistress so graciously lies,
Her fog — blurring our meaning,
Blighting each and every sunrise.
She'll clutch you to her poisonous bosom,
Your breath entwined in her fingers.
Her singing — feeding your sorrow,
As she raises her hideous stinger.
Her hollow gaze is a solar eclipse
That took you away from me,
Buried deep in the folds of dreams,
Your soul's weak yet still trembling gleam.
I'll follow the clinking of your shackles,
That were forged out of tears and rain,
I'll find you on the roof of our castle,
Sewing up your torn frozen wings.
We'll climb up the bruised back of a cloud
And sail into the blushing sky.
Under the crescent's still silver frown,
We'll hear the shadows' cry.
But again the fairy vision is melting,
Slowly morphing into my room.
Despite my nocturnal delirious begging,
Please, let me not rejoin with you soon.