In the moonless dark of wanting the human escape,
the rain of desire of man doth fade,
before the time of birth the trees doth mourn.
Under the cover of desire the mind sleeps,
blood dripped from its lustful sword
crows await the night at dusk,
for their chance of nevermore.
In the autumn of devotion our souls do sink,
dying the dance of seasons burn
the season of tears scream under the cloudless sky.
Shapes of discord mourn beneath the surface,
waves of tears escape wordlessly,
the light of our imagination dreaming
under blankets of new snow.
Before the day, the dreams of desire
airy spirits of longing escape their first death
flickering lights of desperate embrace in the streets.
Under a cloudless sky of winter the dreamers escape,
just the thought of frost and the leaves must wander,
flickering movements of death escaping listlessly,
never to be heard from again.