In this undeadly raven eyes

layes winterstones of buried flesh

once held high by mortal men

holy and miserable



Then on my next gravethrone

I choose the thoughts for each colour

thrown upon lovly wall

for graceful visions and dreams



In the tunnel through fantasy and madness

trancemagic of my dimension

silent as the grave



By every passing curl

is each the shadows beneath

my glorious creations



Is my highest immortal

like the roses feared

or have the flute

played us false tunes

in broken glass