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A Grove Beyond Time
Long ago and far away,
In a vacant, left behind place
Unknown to the void of time and space
There stands a grove of fir trees,
Shimmering in the moonlight
Waving in the wind.
Long ago and far away,
And ever present to this day
They whisper endlessly, calling my name,
Their voices lashing at my empty soul
Tearing wounds worn to scars by time.
In dreams I walk this forlorn road,
In the darkness I now wander,
In the decadent halls of regret I roam
Only death walks by my side, silent as the grave
The only one to wipe away my tears that fall
Streaking from my eyes like dying stars
Crashing against this stone cold floor,
I mourn for the things never done,
Weeping for the memories that hold me away
From seeing salvation ever again.
Long ago and far away,
I dreamed to live another day,
And now my heart has left itself for rimed soil
Bleak as an autumn grave
The fir trees are howling, calling my name
Their roots entangle broken remains
Of a heart that still remembers
The warm touch of your hand,
Now forever cold.
© Nikylus Flint
In a vacant, left behind place
Unknown to the void of time and space
There stands a grove of fir trees,
Shimmering in the moonlight
Waving in the wind.
Long ago and far away,
And ever present to this day
They whisper endlessly, calling my name,
Their voices lashing at my empty soul
Tearing wounds worn to scars by time.
In dreams I walk this forlorn road,
In the darkness I now wander,
In the decadent halls of regret I roam
Only death walks by my side, silent as the grave
The only one to wipe away my tears that fall
Streaking from my eyes like dying stars
Crashing against this stone cold floor,
I mourn for the things never done,
Weeping for the memories that hold me away
From seeing salvation ever again.
Long ago and far away,
I dreamed to live another day,
And now my heart has left itself for rimed soil
Bleak as an autumn grave
The fir trees are howling, calling my name
Their roots entangle broken remains
Of a heart that still remembers
The warm touch of your hand,
Now forever cold.
© Nikylus Flint
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