Crazed creatures of dark delights
Have chased our dove to a distant land
Where they choke songs
By the strings of fear
In the forest of their delusion.
On their sand
They write macabre laws
Whose spectre stalks here.
Its teeth have mangled
The sparrow of my calm.
Let us pass this evening
Listening to a nocturnal crescendo
From a bird not afar.
In the silken cocoon of your touch
I shall be fully alive.
Our love shall become
The pulse of my new rhythm
In the night as it silently dies.