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?