I grasp to find the perfect words,
But nothing ever fits.
Once I laid upon your chest
Now all that cradles me is mist.

I try and weave a web of all the myriad ways
You've marked me
But it always falls apart
Too intricate, too delicate
For my hands,
Alone.

Sand trickles within glass
Carrying with it, you;
Dream-dust lands thick upon my lashes
Carrying with it, you.
Shadows ebb and lighten,
Their waves pulling from my shores
And ever with them, you.

Once painted with the colours of desire
Vibrant memories grow pale
Midnight's masquerade has ended
And I dance, to no avail.

For even if I summoned you with siren song,
All that's left of the mask you knew
Are bloodstained mirrors
Dashed upon the wall
Shards of sanguine laced with gold,
Endless yearning
And abyssal cold.



Penned by my hand on the 14th of Ero, in the year 944 AF.