Over the garden,
there's a window,
a face in the stained glass.
There may be
no expression,
but there is a past.
Sun shining from without,
or light glowing from within,
the frontier in between.
Look down
and see the wind's lost whispering.
Look beyond
and remember
a fading horizon.
Running free
in the summer sun,
life where once was nothing.
Changes
like winter storms
weathered their footprints made on the road
of lies.
A Prisoner
forced by the spell
to live this silent,
pain of glass my prison.
Horror and fate
in permanence this condition.
Crying out
only in this mind.
From the pane there's no sound.
Not a word.
Trapped like
ghosts in Gehenna.
My only friends
are long since gone.
Faded away
with the shifting
of time.
Little shards of sky
falling silently with the rain.
My poisons draining
from this surface pale,
falling away with the tears.
What I see is it real,
or another dream deceiving?
If there's is no chance
of being what I was once,
then I must rebecome.
This new life,
from these two dimensions,
only flows clarity
through the colored glass.
Twilight visions forever sleeping
as silver nights pass with the dawn.
Swimming in this light ethereal,
the truth and the fear
made clear by the glass
My shade's drawing near,
tempting me to persevere
inside the quiet of this dreaming futility.
Never to interfere:
never to take part
as the lives pass beneath me.
Like a stream of memories:
far, yet my hands seem so close.
I reach out for the day
from this night of forever.
Over the garden, in this window
I find my past.
There was once a noble man
where there is now stained glass.
Looking down,
light falling through my pane
on the lives at which I only can gaze.
Look beyond,
from this future in stasis,
accepting, thus I remain.
I'm waiting...
there's a window,
a face in the stained glass.
There may be
no expression,
but there is a past.
Sun shining from without,
or light glowing from within,
the frontier in between.
Look down
and see the wind's lost whispering.
Look beyond
and remember
a fading horizon.
Running free
in the summer sun,
life where once was nothing.
Changes
like winter storms
weathered their footprints made on the road
of lies.
A Prisoner
forced by the spell
to live this silent,
pain of glass my prison.
Horror and fate
in permanence this condition.
Crying out
only in this mind.
From the pane there's no sound.
Not a word.
Trapped like
ghosts in Gehenna.
My only friends
are long since gone.
Faded away
with the shifting
of time.
Little shards of sky
falling silently with the rain.
My poisons draining
from this surface pale,
falling away with the tears.
What I see is it real,
or another dream deceiving?
If there's is no chance
of being what I was once,
then I must rebecome.
This new life,
from these two dimensions,
only flows clarity
through the colored glass.
Twilight visions forever sleeping
as silver nights pass with the dawn.
Swimming in this light ethereal,
the truth and the fear
made clear by the glass
My shade's drawing near,
tempting me to persevere
inside the quiet of this dreaming futility.
Never to interfere:
never to take part
as the lives pass beneath me.
Like a stream of memories:
far, yet my hands seem so close.
I reach out for the day
from this night of forever.
Over the garden, in this window
I find my past.
There was once a noble man
where there is now stained glass.
Looking down,
light falling through my pane
on the lives at which I only can gaze.
Look beyond,
from this future in stasis,
accepting, thus I remain.
I'm waiting...