And so you left us. Jaded and gaunt, some September...
Wilted with the season, but hidden inside the delusion
I saw your eyes...some where...
Devoid of death. The aura poises admids the storm...
In solid tears I linger. A parlour glade, moonlit sorrow.
Lonely resting pools, relics of the moon-dogged lake whisper:
"all your words are misgiven"
Am I like them, those who mourn and turn away?
Those who would give anything to see you again...if only for another second
Your face was like the photograph, painted white, we didn't speak very often about it.
What does it matter now?
Cloak of autumn shroud. I gaze, dim richochet of stars...I reckon it is time for me, to leave...
You sleep in the light, yet the night and the silent water still so dark
