The cold water in which I stand

Portrays the tears I once cried

I face a sunset of sweet sins

In a dusk of perishing hopes



I bear the shroud

That once warmed me

I bear a torn shroud

That now grieves with me



I wash my hands

With glory that once shared

Through my fingers it slips...

...Alas... It slips...



Blissful winds that covet me

Offering wings of shining silk

They whisper to me

Will you wait for the sun