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S-lumbering poet who hides behind a clay mask T-onight is the time to play your song;
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I feel uneasy, I think I am ill I have all of the symptoms of dying.
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There's something special in you; There's not a thing I can do
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I have seen your silhouette before;
she often walks these cobbled tiles
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Here we are in ecstasy--
A glitch in time that leads
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Today the Sun began to shine;
He awoke this morn to color the sky
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Miserable existance--
How I despise thee!
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Music; The end is echoed with music.
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Sometimes I feel I can wait no longer...
My darling, I live to know your love,
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O, how curious the heart is!
How one moment it loves
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I am a goddess of music;
A Muse, if you will!
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Look at me now;
It will be the last time
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Time is ticking--
What do I say?
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The battle for the porcelain Queen;
A joyful yet beguiling dream
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Hello again, my silent friend!
It's been a year or two, I fear
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I find your reluctance unbearable!
Here, as in former twilights,
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The moon is golden tonight.
How else could I have seen your skin
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Another morning----
It dawned this time in the twilight.
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I am the scent of summers past
Alone, I live in morning dew
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Though Moon lives in a dark and lonely place,
Her lover's aura still glows on her face.
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I have never felt so hopeless.
I have been transformed into evil,
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It seems my wait beneath the willow was not in vain,
For you returned, my love, to waltz upon a rose.
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The winter was long indeed,
But my love, I never wandered from the willow.
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I remember you well, my love.
When I dream of you, I am reminded of vanilla.
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It is inevitable, and pains the world.
Nothing good ever came from loving.
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My love, I own the roses.
I am a gardener of promises
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To love is to be tossed and cast aside,
Yet the love in your heart shall not abide.
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Oh, dearly beloved,
I'm weary of our fate.
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W-riggling and writhing
R-eaching out for ideas
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To my last tear:
I write to you because you're different.
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While you're singing with the angels
I remain in earthen Hell.
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Run from the Samurai;
It is something I cannot do.
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I got ran over by a monkey,
I know it sounds bizarre,
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P-erfections is impossible: My
U-biquitous greed and
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