Hearth of dead ashes
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The hours slip
By the window's frozen light
Spirits I sip
An unwelcome inner sight
Ghosts of my past
Speak to me from their ancient grave
Having found at last
The unattainable peace I crave
Outside the rain
Has come to a standstill
Behind the pane
Droplets lie upon my window sill
The icy cold
Beyond the window in a sea of haze
The stillness of old
Stirs to life the forgotten days
Poisons often hide inside a broken husk
A golden circle holds liquid depths of dusk
The goblet's shining rim contains the still red wine
Taken from the vine in a world divine
Once the thread of life seemed to have no end
And the rising sun would never descend
But life can be cut short should springtime be taken
And choose to fall asleep not wanting to awaken
Next to my hand
On the table the drinking glass
Which bears an end
That my life is come to bless
The untold weight
Of the truth that I have found
The shackles of fate
Finally broken may fall to the ground
Poisons often hide inside a broken husk [...]
The room is dark
For all fire has long been dead
There is no spark
To light the flame that life once had
Poisons often hide inside a broken husk [...]
I slip away
Like the breeze in the morning chill
Outside, branches gently sway
Inside, all is still