I was 5 the first time,
I flew through the door...

Twist the knife a little deeper
The pain is all that keeps me alive...

Stars softly shimmer
Through the old willow branch groves...

Orange light splintered into various hues
Kindling warmth, happiness...

You're naught but a name on the wind
A black and white photo where a face should have...

Dull white paper stars
Hang by strings from painted night...

Suspended between crystal dimensions
Pulsating with desire of a crimson heart...

Water droplets fell
Encircling his head in a luminous circlet...

The air moist from teardrops
Of a willow...

Forever
Cradled by the steady sea...

Seek me not from the branches
I hide not beneath their leaves...

Swept up in the perfect moment
Made of nothing but glass...