Their love was sterling silver,
never to be stained with rust.
It’s all made of faith and duty;
It’s all made of sighs and smiles;
It’s all made of fantasy and reality.
He would for the crown of the palace
keep his faith and troth till the end.
The 3 gods preside over the Arts.
Pallas Athena sends out the rays
of visions into the memory temple;
Vulcan grasps the beams of light
and grows them into red hot fires;
Mars receives the divine artifices
and perfects them into treasures.
We can’t be here
While going nowhere
Chasing a mirage
In a concrete oasis.
Walking on a thin ice
With the misty eyes
Ire roars, passion heats
Miracles are imageries
Angels are too high above
We don’t want to be here.
The misfit stars gathered together
To try their luck elsewhere whither.
Those that fell to the earth at night
Became crystals with hues of night
Sparkling wantonly in a ring of swan
A dazzling enchantment on my palm.
The chariot of the sun reaches
At the end of the day’s race,
And the eyes follow the trace
Of the sun god’s declination
And stay on the golden palace
In the dazzling adumbration
By the waterfalls of Elysium.