In pure molten perfection,
I find your solemn face...

This distance driving me crazy,
A ceaseless tearing at my spirit...

Through the purple meadows,
Along the yellow pines...

Wading in the placid mist,
of my memory's demise...

Searching for the message,
within my tear stained hands...

I lie awake, unknowing,
of what my fate holds for me...

Haunted by the passion,
that falls under your name...

Let me guide you
follow, I'll lead you...

Sitting alone she waits for dawn,
a time to give her hope...

Without much experience behind my name,
the days that go by seem often the same...

As the sun goes down so does my heart,
I've made pulling down spirits into an art...

Sitting in a clearing
lighted, free from pain...