free the past from the chains of lunar synthesis
The harsh moonlight uncovers grievances held in white
memories whispering lunar incantations in the night
Stretching nightly hallows along the frost
Am I the only one pondering during this strange pentecost
Who is he that stands on the balcony, cold and forlorn?
The pitiful raindrops gently bounce on the rim of the ruby-red window
blurring the words on my life-long diary,
I paint my whole life with imagined memories
the wild wind spreads the word in unfamiliar territories
The dreamily reality fades into the far away neverland
reduced into a spire of smoke
It dances on the wind,
melting into your silhouette
The curtains of lead has poisoned the meadow
forcing me to look beyond the window
The flower has reached its twilight
petals withering in the glorious sight
What does this mean?
What prophetic insight shall I glean?
The world's sorrow diminishes into a pond of lust
begging me to devour the water pipes' rust
Never cross the river you shall, for you will never reach the shore
my tormented heart is bleak, I must examine the lore
I would spend my life drifting on the yellow sands of Sahara
Thine shall not worry, but respond with an echo of laughter
Whose lands are these? They are rife with the trumpets of war
embark on this journey of pain and gore
Your soft sigh beats with a dying heart
The moody sky ripples with daft clouds, darkening slightly
An entire dose of melancholy that ends in such a gentle sonnet
The kingdom of light trembles in sadness
The breeze of Autumn caresses gently the faces of the earth
such beauty, withering with mirth
The cruel winds of the north whirl on the ripples of the lake
holding the undiscovered fate of snowflakes
The chrysanthemums covering the whole ground
wilting along the distant sound
Your smile has yellowed with age
my weathered diary has flipped a page
The night has yet to rise,
allow me to dissect your shadow in Thine guise
Petals fall without a sound
Like my heart, losing yet remain unfound
Left alone on the surface of the lake,
I pray to the Autumn's Chrysanthemum
And calmly plunge into the sleep without wake.
The harsh moonlight uncovers grievances held in white
memories whispering lunar incantations in the night
Stretching nightly hallows along the frost
Am I the only one pondering during this strange pentecost
Who is he that stands on the balcony, cold and forlorn?
The pitiful raindrops gently bounce on the rim of the ruby-red window
blurring the words on my life-long diary,
I paint my whole life with imagined memories
the wild wind spreads the word in unfamiliar territories
The dreamily reality fades into the far away neverland
reduced into a spire of smoke
It dances on the wind,
melting into your silhouette
The curtains of lead has poisoned the meadow
forcing me to look beyond the window
The flower has reached its twilight
petals withering in the glorious sight
What does this mean?
What prophetic insight shall I glean?
The world's sorrow diminishes into a pond of lust
begging me to devour the water pipes' rust
Never cross the river you shall, for you will never reach the shore
my tormented heart is bleak, I must examine the lore
I would spend my life drifting on the yellow sands of Sahara
Thine shall not worry, but respond with an echo of laughter
Whose lands are these? They are rife with the trumpets of war
embark on this journey of pain and gore
Your soft sigh beats with a dying heart
The moody sky ripples with daft clouds, darkening slightly
An entire dose of melancholy that ends in such a gentle sonnet
The kingdom of light trembles in sadness
The breeze of Autumn caresses gently the faces of the earth
such beauty, withering with mirth
The cruel winds of the north whirl on the ripples of the lake
holding the undiscovered fate of snowflakes
The chrysanthemums covering the whole ground
wilting along the distant sound
Your smile has yellowed with age
my weathered diary has flipped a page
The night has yet to rise,
allow me to dissect your shadow in Thine guise
Petals fall without a sound
Like my heart, losing yet remain unfound
Left alone on the surface of the lake,
I pray to the Autumn's Chrysanthemum
And calmly plunge into the sleep without wake.