I am amused to see how the comb slides through your golden curl
Thy pretentious smile innocence itself
In absence of thine, I have become a drought

Eight thousand days since and the past still drips off my mind
Tremors of the night deem upon me their daily nightmare

In behest of an eclipse I am forward to thee
Splash upon me the glitter of thine loving
Swiftly oust isolations poison from me