East of the moon, west of the sun,
A mourning mist
falls on the bridge of avalon.
Journeying through the maze of dreams -
My goal: The reconciliation of extremes.
The planets perched on their pillars of the sky,
to the heavens, I am wondering why
The faith of reason and the glory of truth
Have been lost to the forgotten language
I hear voices on the border of silence, conversing,
the narrow passage of chance I'm traversing.
The lucky find love in the ruins of time,
And I, a spectator of the eternal
From the devils below to the angels above
in the name, and vanity, of love.
The empirical smile on the lips of the mistress,
She owns the daylight freedom and
the night-time fortress.
These tyrants of paradise in the rising storm,
of fortune, to exile are born;
The changing gods in their dance of the fallen
From glory and grace - I can
hear them calling.
Distant visions of glory and elusive utopias
In the fathoms
of sunlight and the shadows it embroiders.
A search for the soul who possesses the one kiss,
Granting freedom from
the talons of the eagle of injustice.
We once stood together in a blinding absence of light,
voice of the silence commanded the little bird take flight.
A cold wind biting through the darkness surrounding;
shadow of solitude and the echo resounding.
In the warm caress of summer and cold grip of winter
the depths and the love I fell into.
From cradle to grave and on unto glory -
The lost illusion and his never