Sorrow
The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the landplumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky:a man lies and dreams of green fields and riversbut awakes to a morning with no reason for waking
He's haunted by the memory of a lost paradisein his youth or a dream, he can't be precisehe's chained forever to a world that's departedIt's not enough, It's not enough
His blood has frozen & curled with frighthis knees have trembled & given way in the nighthis hand has weakened at the moment of truthhis step has faltered
One world, one soulTime pass, the river roll
And he talks to the river of lost love and dedicationand silent replies that swirl invitationflow dark and troubled to any oily seaa grim intimation of what is to beThere's an unceasing wind that blows through this nightand there's dust in my eyes, that blinds my sightand silence that speaks so much louder than wordsof promises broken