I look to the stars above who tremble,
Like ashes scattered over nocturne oceans,
The gaseous masses, afire and immeasurable,
And beneath the vast weight of oblivion
My mind all but crumbles.

Shining through the city's broken crystals
Beneath rusting lights,
There is one dwindling carnival
That delivers prizes to lucky fools.
That presents us images of bait and night.
That offers the floss we entangled with our teeth and pulls.
I'll bring to all men's attention
That when the dances and performances pass
After the tar dancers have paraded through,
After they have cascaded over and faded away,
There will be a final puff.
Yet once as I slept and could not close my eyes
I dreamt of a movie
Where our hero passed the shadows of doubt
And out of the woods would join with joy to a ruckus circus
Of bright unfolding colour, glamour and levitating decor,
And dreamt when I was so tired
That I thought it could be true.
But I know in the day, the carnival will convey itself away,
Leaving only land for toil and broken soils.



I see a man, his hair a circling smoke
That reflects light in a twisted silver lining,
And with September I almost awoke.

I will hear the charming tolls of a celesta
Muffled through a cellar door,
Taste tar like cigarettes regretted on deathbeds
Know the colour of noire decor,
That comes after the final door.

Afterall, we are a gilded horizon,
No more than the dawn of all our days,
And dusk of all the shadows sent away,
Those seldom remembered then forever forgotten.
A lily lurches across the sky towards us.
The void’s pulse continuous
Tick tock… tick tock…
              
Turn the hour glass and walk towards the shade.
Shuffling off with the feet of the reaper.
As though children who slide beneath black waves
Sift sand and shift, sink ever deeper.

They all fall to the bottom of the glass.
The sunken sun sets, soon she shall pass.
The gold must go, and all colour with it.
              Tick tock… tick tock…