New York Room I Still Hear Your Name
in the thaw of coldest winter
rage the storms of my black spring
grows the thorns in my black garden
haunts me with your suffering
in the cold of deepest water
I'll place the candles on your alter
I'll drown my body beneath the waves
and swim to you into this grave
in the chains of cruelest silence
screams the pain of oldest violence
silencing the broken dream
muffling the dying scream
in the smoke of burning embers
rise the days that I remember
float the ways that came before
and brings me back to you once more
I still hear your name
(like an open grave)
