Whither thy pail leaves of the winter
Hast thou not relished in the grassy knoll
And in the purity of the splinter
The splinter of love brought upon thy soul

Whither thy sprit of the sky
Hast thou cast away thy wings
And the desire to glide so high
To join the thrush who sings

Whither thy sweet upon thy orchid Filled Garden
Hast thou drunk every last drop of beauty And grace
Doth time advance and thy heart harden
~
~No more is thy heart tied with silken lace

No more... No more, The
Sun filled sky, with shadows of singers
No more... No more, The
Blood filled heart, the blackened fingers

No more, No more thy love, thy winter
No more will thy heart splinter