The night is fallen on the East side
Withhold your breath all that stand in the cold
The threshold of peace, not all can afford
When Sitting on the eyes of the storm, the frosty auric slowly abide

Numb your senses, numb your feelings
B’cause tonight is the night of ruling kings
Could all this fortune be your bliss at last?
Or could your bliss your curse become?

Honey dripping from your mouth was my abundance
Instead, you chose among the capital sins
a life of mundane existence and beaming grins

Your hands move steady
But caresses run wild as our kisses dash unfeasibly
The need to attain the out of reach is the pay for pernicious gold.