As dawns first rays turn to creeping dusk,
Could it be, do I still slumber?
Have I walked this world about me
Past the haunting pillars of the sand,
Just to drown within the ocean
Of a vagrant solitude?

I am trapped beneath the surface
Of idle death and madness
I attempt to reach the westward breeze,
But I am thwarted by my heart of stone,
As I sink into the liquid blue oblivion.
I’m so cold.

Then my muse, she sings to me,
Without the aid of sound,
Like a descending gale of reverie
That tosses me about within its throws.
And alas, I am not worthy, to drown within this ocean,
Of my own eclectic sorrows.

Now I am thrown about the crashing waves
Beneath the tower of the stars.
From here I gaze out upon the placid waters
As they reflect the blackened velvet sky,
And once more I listen to the crooning birds,
Once more before I die.

So, here upon the bone yard beach
Between two pillars of the sand,
I feel as though I have ill-completed life
As I watch the tide rise and fall before me.
And I contemplate my waking dream, along with
A return to blue oblivion.

And the water is so cold.
Arms from the abyss find comfort in me
While I lay within these waters
Of a vagrant solitude.
Forevermore now must I hear the call
Of those black November winds…

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