Too far in time for pink puddles at dawn
Feeling like I’ve lost the key to your door
Having the impression that we’ve overgrown
Now that we’re only left with our armies at war
Dances of spring
And rituals of love
This painless silence
Meek dreamers embrace
Screeching of doom in haunting birdsongs
Seeping their vision into divine mold
Trying to warn me of your blade, so cold
What are you waiting for?
What are you waiting for?
A million year of rainbows
And now is the season of flood
Ventured inside those dark alleys alone
Guided by stars in the mud
I am still sitting here unable to rest
Wondering whether your words were said merely in jest
A guest of my thoughts I turned blind
Staring at this delicate map with no paths to find
Where do you go, where do you go
To find a love lost
This lone mirror which framed our coda
Is now a window inside the coma
Dreamless static the sound of your calls
Burning our palace walls revealed the Moon
Letters to myself: a diary 