Red sun rising,
|
somewhere through the dense fog.
|
The portrait of the jaded dawn,
|
who had seen it all before.
|
|
|
This day wept on my shoulders.
|
Still the same as yesterday.
|
This path seems endless, body is numb.
|
The soul has lost its flame.
|
Walking in familiar traces
|
to find my way back home.
|
|
|
So there I was.
|
Within the sobriety of the immortals.
|
A semblance of supernatural winds passing through.
|
The garden sighs, flowers die.
|
|
|
The gate was closed that day,
|
but I was bound to carry on.
|
She could not see me through the windows.
|
In dismay, strangest twist upon her lips.
|
Graven face, she said my name.
|
|
|
Once inside I heard whispers in the parlor.
|
The gilded faces grin, aware of my final
|
|
demise.
|
|
demise.
|
|
demise.
|
|
demise.
|
|
And I cried,
|
I knew she had lied.
|
Her obsession had died,
|
it had died.
|
|
|
When can I take you from this place?
|
When is the word but a sigh?
|
When is death our lone beholder?
|
When would we walk the final steps?
|
When can we scream instead of whisper?
|
When is the new beginning,
|
and the end of this sad MADRIGAL.
|
|
-----------------
|
When
|
| Opeth |
