Missing points, generic pathways scarred the ground.
I walk the lonely road to the endless mountains, and bottomless ocean.
My inamorato's heart is beating in my ears. Our iris-less eyes are dimming as the midnight sun goes down.
The naked trees, and the snow of Kerling worship the howls, and the crawls.
Their whispers shattered the skies.
They have lost their home, and bewildered snows.
Fully aligned stars, and microcosmos are surrounding the green aura of the pole.
Made up moonlight, mythologies, and the Dharmachakra.
(We are the ancient maps. We are the old souls.)
The desire to be alone under the sea, and to be found in another dimension.
My inamorato's voice is fading with the early wind, and our conscience.
The living woods, and the realms of the gilled nymphs are breathing through the mist.
Their presence warmths the whole ground.
I'll tell you a story in another life, when we are the lights.
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