Through blurry dreams of vivid ebony.
Of crimson red that escape my mem’ry.
The old hand of time has taken its toll,
In a world of dreams that wish to console.
With the passing of a clandestine star,
Whose dazzling silver lights just seem too far.
The transcendence of a thousand comets,
Are as beautiful as a sun that sets.
Overhead, a deep and calming sky blue,
A sign of life that shall now breathe anew.
Outcast and in exile, the vagrant weeps,
A soft silent whisper as Zephyr sleeps.
For stars that age, that once shone so brightly,
Dimming grandeur though ever so slightly.
Woe to he, lost in this sad serenade,
Her beautiful face, her pitiful shade.
