In many a quivering hour lay
the broad expanse of yesterday.
What shall come and free her mind?
For time, is fleeting still...
Upon the blank canvass of innocence
fate's painting without recompense.
Who shall come and touch her heart?
This loneliness to kill...
The dust of lies told long ago
is buried where the children play.
Within this soil desires grow
and moonlight's ebbing tide gives way.
In twilight's burgundy shadows hide
the shame and guilt of foolish pride.
Why shall she withdraw her soul?
To mourn herself, until...
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