Rhealls oonecorn

Clouds and Thunder

Is it a kind of dream,
Floating out on the tide,
Following the river of death downstream?
Oh, is it a dream?

There's a fog along the horizon,
A strange glow in the sky,
And nobody seems to know where you go,
And what does it mean?
Oh, is it a dream?

Bright eyes,
Burning like fire.
Bright eyes,
How can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes.

...

Swayer Of Mists

Dark vulture! -
The sweetnes of the sunset
must die, screaming in terror,
before the night can spread it´s wings and fly
through horizons bleeding of beauty.

The world is wrapped
in the beating of crazy wings
in the pulse of a strange chaos.
The world has shut its eyes
behind curtains of unexplainable tears.
The air is as thick as flesh.
The song of light
drowns in the silence,
in the calmness of the eclipse
that hunts your destiny like a starving shadow.

At this dark dawn
so far from everwhere and nothingness
the sky seems to ask:
Why did you not leave?
Why did your heart make the world cry?
Why is the stars full of pain?

Fire Pace