The frozen mists of winter's touch
Rise and drift over fields and clutch...

Crumpled surface, rough to touch
Broken by fear, violence, disgrace...

Alone inside this crowed room
Light filtering through the shadows tomb...

No words can convey
The joy within...

Rays so golden drifting in
Weary eyes close to the light...

The grandmother clock
Beside the crumbling wall...

In the museum lay halls of objects
Glass cases protecting the fragile...

Closing my eyes, the world swirls around me
Drifting in a sea of senses...

She caught the breath before it left
Those harsh sweet words without a sigh...

Oh fair times that fate bestow
Happy days without sorrow or woe...

Squandering past and love alike
The temptations fragile hand...

The seconds pass once again
I am upon this land of despair...