Frozen morning, autumn thralls,
gently turns, they slowly fall...

The air clings to our throats like clutching...
cuts the static and we cannot speak, against you I...

Oh hark! The stark of dark!
The light, the blight of midnight's sight...

Broken glass, like sprinkled stars
Falling from your eyes, like envious blades... the...

We brushed our hands so fiercely, against our...
to melt it fast...

Your grace, and dancing swans
too late to touch, to wait...