Nightfall Monuments Of Its Own Magnificence
Those dying lips, approval of this miserable world Those fleshy highfalutin' lines that sing for me And the untouchable ones. Send me in the globetrotter skies, don't hinder me There shall I build my own dreams again. Above clouded tombs and mourning ladies, Above your poor world of dispare Ascent... The hemlock turns to hemp And my heartburn into hellish headwind Yet, through my highness I try to hex Thou, thou world, thou dreams, thou nest, Thou clef before the keyhole to eternity... ..cloudburst our tears are as our mother's mitre dries under the Indomitable sun.
