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Pounding rhythms announce a borderline to pass. |
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Arctic chill embraces me under |
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African skies. |
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Now all is one, grand transition starts slowly, |
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Life leaks away... |
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There's a certain passage |
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I must run through all alone. |
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Static yet kinetic this projection lasts and widens constantly |
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Feeling alone... |
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Closer to the boundaries inertia thrill's my sleep |
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Somehow I must enter in scenes beyond compare. |
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I know I will... [II. PROJECTIONS] |
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Adrift at sea on my way to |
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Avalon Tangled in moments surreal beneath the bridge of sighs |
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Emptiness takes hold... |
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Inhibitions and stifled fears emerge from the abyss of childhood, |
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My soul starts movind 'til it flies. |
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I retrace the years back and |
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I sense compulsions disintergrate, |
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Barricades once built tumble down, eventually. |
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Projections - pictures of somewhere |
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I'd been Coloured reflections... [III. THE GRAINS OF SAND] |
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Even though new horizons are reached questions remain, |
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Subconscicous landscapes left behind. |
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There's the permanent hope that the sand in my hands recites details of moments passed away. |
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And the grains of sand slip through my fingers |
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Like the vision that blurs whith the light of dawn... |
