Glass Spirit de Nucleus Torn

sunclad she roamed in dry woods, thickets, burnt ground
no mere shadow against blackening skies
mute air sees and knows a caress of it's beloved
laid to rest for another day in silence has passed

golden age and the slight of cruel cold hands

once spring once bloom once sun once precious perished age
once life once my own once close and dear

and the hush of death sublime
they say you hear when you shiver in the sun
shiver in the sun

how little warmth
cruellest of stars
breed ruin and then
nothing else nothing else nothing else...
but a void

spirits left
weakened hands

glad somehow
one breath taken
stolen from night's grace

sunclad she roamed in dry woods, thickets, burnt ground
naked against a naked sun