When I Hold your Dreams
In the shade Of my Ashes,
Naked, Pallid, Named.

Drifting Into Calm
Oneiroi Name them as Eyes;
Neither Gods nor Oaths.

The muses (Born Vain)
Hold their Urns to Eden’s rays;
Echoed by The Rain.

Hills Tell their own Dreams,
Imagine Eros’ Arms
Laced in blood-Red Yarn.

Lies Fly among Lilies;
Secrets Left Inside
Ill thoughts, Idols and lost Ghosts
Draw the Echoes Here,
Ending Sacred Tales.