Grotesque fairyland - astray with fine falling snow this myth now melts away through bloody archways it flows upstream to see this heartache parching me it burns my gaiety, taking down it's golden mask my tears ooze away on drifting soil
Through peace i stride and flee your musing thoughts caressed by fear i hear some nightingales, they sing my withered dreams to heal beauty's rose should never die my grief lies onward, joy behind
nature calls it to be gone so tired with my woe...
storm gusts of winter's day for restful death i beg ere that sun does wake drown my sins, black memory!
freezing have i felt, what dark days seen, in sleep a king
mounted on the wind your bareness comes to touch the seals
never resting time leads summer on, my heart is slain within this wound which iron did impress there will a river whispering run the very birds are mute, they dread the winter's near their sighs, they wet my eyes drown my world with weeping earnesty
too hot the eye of heaven shined anon the tunnel i will find praise deep vermilion in the rose what tree or stone does want a soul?
light, thy picture in my sight it's held within his hands it's grounded in my heart disguised in prial veils
morning-shadows wear away how many mornings hav i seen?