Tis a knife sharper than death

A wind as cold as the cold sea

To watch on whistling moors

An angel who failed to flee

In battered wings the hostile shores

That deceived his eternity.

Were the waves to engulf you

I would drown in a thousand oceans

And tear my skin on those weeping rocks

For the hope my foam arms would embrace

All broken shards of your soul.

Now you have fallen, where is the light?

Will any of my days ever be bright?

Do not look into my eyes, they carry enough venom

To barren fields and forests of plenty.

I used to dance with the Moirai

And weave for Arachnee;

But you cut all threads in your fall

Blew the last candle of my faith,

Turned gold back into mud

And Arcadia into a bank of the lonely.

Heaven is bleak and blind

Deprived of the flames you subdued

Forever dark and empty and skewed

The warmth of hell is calling

And the melody of the flute

Whispers in my ear.