Sundered from each other by contrived passages; Did we ever feel the earth As it lived beneath our stride?
Bred in a herd to toil together, Yet heedless of our ties. Led to invent the routine way, Our essence, the levy.
Encroaching on these sylvan sanctuaries, Realms once vibrant and various, Outcasts and escapists hidden within Twinning their voices with owls and nightingales Eyes of a thousand shapes all unseen, Sheltered from the watchful order.
Watchers and orders trespass the shade Dousing out mysteries of woodland fables Evanescing into air like the morning dew Wounding foxes and stags beyond hunters’ might Once a realm of lust(er) and shelter, Our refuges wane under waxing burdens
Withered, this home once lavish Bereaved of wealded hearth Shapes lost with the timber Voices fading with the wind
We languish in this, our hollow home Bereaved of wealded hearth As legends lost with the domain Voices fading with the wind
Wayward mysteries, voices stilled Kindred, scattered sovereigns, Set astray by the alchemy of sorrow (Wayward kings…)
Evanescing into air like the morning dew Wounding foxes and stags beyond hunters’ might Once a realm of lust(er) and shelter, Our refuges wane under waxing burdensTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.