IRC-Galleria

I walked to the end of the street.
Escaped to the place unreal.
An palace made of stone and wind.
By the river of vine, full of glass and sin.

I shiver trough trail of flowers.
Search an light source from deepest caverns.
Patch our holes of sensual tiredness.
An hiding place from forgotten happiness.

Step on the way, let it lead.
Find a storage for those seeds.
Build an moment, let it heal.
Stay near the fire, watch it breath.

I gather round stones on the way.
Make an fortress of sounds so grey.
Touch the air, feel its gentle movement.
Save our smiles, for all to prevent.

I lay in the burning sky.
Lend strokes to clouds passing by.
Flip trough pages to find an brazen serpent.
You and I, we are saved.