Listening to the wind howl,
Subtle as it is. Leaves wince...

Like the moon before the tide,
My tears flow upon these beaches...

Escapades of ashen night are halted,
As moonlight, teeming, lies receding...

Often thinking, we are dwelling,
No spirit moves our nature elsewhere...

May moments pass in daylight,
Where one might take repose...

Hearken the tears of winter,
Life springs from such frigid tombs...

This world is a circus.
Everyday a carousel of emotion...

I am the predator, prowling in the darkness,
Sunlight glinting off my stone-like eyes...

Slipping down, going fast,
Seeing fear slither through my past...

I am alive, yet I feel Death.
Sweet chaos runs down my cheeks...

Speak willingly to the world,
Untold secrets lay rotting...

Slip the thread through the needle,
Stitch the lie into our skin...