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Long for
Sweet chambers
Of this Palace

Water of violet of
its fountains
Flowed in peace
down its walls
Marble down its
chill halls
Moon glowed
Mirrored

No drought in its
Nocturnal embrace
And satin enwombed
Us
Into a sweet tomb

Brought
What ever & who ever
When bells call
Into its satin womb
Sweetly
We fall
Back













I am capable of doing
Impossible things
Inside of my crimson chamber
You know

As I travel
The marks on skin glow
& Songs have no shape
Songs have no shape
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