As seen in a faceless dream with a sweetheart rose
                   under the autumn sun until the harvest moon shows
Playing various killer games and in love with them all
                   shattering glass hearts of iron women I no longer recall
Casting an Angel's shadow while projecting disturbing visions
                   as macabre' artforms fall under their creator's war divisions
 sliding into bedchamber glory and sleeping hard on fragile truths
                   the Spirit sneaks into secret places deep within ancestral roots 
Destiny's End comes sooner than that of a newborn star
                   with a pipe organ opera making the night drift too far
Waking in a red dawn solitude and dreading what was forgotten
                   modern curses of a craft now kept wrapped in black cotton
the Soul is mirrored within to reflect regretful realms of burning pain
                   leading bands of Hope into worlds of turbulent disdain
 vertical layers upon shifting levels keep my essence spilling down
                   sharp edge redemption is the law that spirals the rest around
and with resurrection's mystery bringing about enchanting lore
                    I teeter over deep seperation and then freefall into nothing more . . .