When I search for love
I look into the eye
the entrance to the soul
When I grieve over loss
I observe the changing times
the nothingnessless hole
When I fear we are losing the game
I realise the wisdom and
the knowledge brings sorrow
And the breath of life is beyond our grip.
Everything is meaningless
Everything is forgotten
Where do we go from here?
Oh how long will this cursed sun beat down upon our backs?
Does the sun never relax?
That which is twisted, can it never be straightened?
And after all believing and relaying and
forgiving and forgetting
Does the ocean ever still?
Will the casket ever fill?
Harlequin of the citadel has fallen.