Backwards Into Dusk

In the summer shades of grief,
layed to rest like a fallen leaf,
my delicate parody upon the wind;
I witnessed the edges of reality blur,
by soft whispers and murmurs.

And backwards into dusk,
melodies composed by twilight symphonies,
our hands entwined like the stars and moon
and her eyes like diamonds in a coal sky.

Enticing lullaby, oh lay me to sleep,
melodious lonely tales for me to weep;
my tears like tongues of velvet,
and the lips of passion unto my own,
fervent shivers coating pale bones.

Of fragrances in between the lillies,
and synonymous to an exquisite unwithered rose,
a beautiful crimson painting;
yet all is gray and raining,
shattered memoirs of my heart remaining.

Tormented in my bed of reason,
the phantoms kissing me with treason,
I dance alone in the fields of endless day,
once upon the icy waterfalls with Terpsichore,
but still I taste the bitter suns of decay.