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White dreams of sour relish four candles in |
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VIRGINS nest |
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Sweet rhyme of brook flows in our minds... we fly. |
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Words in a cold frost eve, taken by the form of breeze |
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Falling down before they get to known... the sough |
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Drunken by a fierce of night and some who |
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RECLAIMED my mind |
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The dark is longer than we thought, so cold. |
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Black snow shall fade our shapes roots of the oak |
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EMBRACE Sweet rhyme of brook flows through our times, alive. |
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A quiet pray, another day for the words that never said. |
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November's eve, four of a breeze for the words that never feels, |
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Forever we die, forever disdain in |
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WHITE dreams of sour relish. |
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Forever white, forever night loose love cleaves to a |
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DARK. |
