Formed from salt of sea Water speaks through glistening tide Oceanic orbit sighs She smiles her frost bitten lips Catacombs of broken vases Stems and flower heads Oysters ovulate Floating foam crushed She swims a half moon away, claiming an erudite eruption Formed from salt of sea
He is an unwalked path open before us we come closer only to find an even wider horizon He is wind in a tree raining wild dew Orchids bloom while he speaks as silence Breeds clouds fields of Lavender Swirling vortex Seeks salving words as Lepperochans wake from their mossy sleep Soul adorned with his crown of hair Draws Vees in burgundy skies We pray to Vati She bows her head Her third eye knows The sacred Lotus grows still Free ...
O harlot moon Draw me deep into your wood Where the shadows are not meant to be Body of decay rotting On winter`s ground my tears fall broken O virgin field may I lay my head upon your green Listen to the stars sing sparrows fly from my heart wind greets their flight Sun Fly Light
Incantations from ancient worlds Artic silence hangs heavy in the air Great mother spider finds her weaving threads Sacred satin in geometry of stars shapes winter when cold moon glow initiates crystaline flakes As the four winds blow through skeleton trees. She weaves of winter, Embroidering life in the lines She weaves each broken frame Her eight legs capture infinity Fenir will return again No chains can bind Spittle of birds Devouring the sun Run, dwarfen ,run Weave, spider, weave
Splinters of angels falling crushing their wings in flight Crest of life Buried under first snow amongst lillies in a milky white sea floating in a bryzantine layer of time capturing northern lights in flight crushing their wings of angels falling splintered
Sacrophague of sorrow where twin flames finally may die as one Burning Incence of living after death Placing these objects on this altar Right of rite Black mass of fallen stars I wonder why we carve our name in bask of trees I wonder about an explanation for extermination Winter wears a white carnation From the ashen cremation Life
Night of All Mothers brings us back sleeping womb In Her arms she holds porcelain tears runes of rain woe through voices shrined songs what was broken will be healed Return, Sun, Return Safe Born again