Golden

Hell I have heard the call of dawn
the clinging of luck, the golden song
Hell I have heard the whistling bone
the weight of metal in its tomb
I happen to run on a blue wheel
Beneath the stem of blooming fear
And here I gasp for breath to scream
I'll take a leap into the stream
The soul of marvel in the beam
is the answer to all things dear

The Prophet Is heading for the Sky

They reach for me with outstretched hands
in my direction, trying to pull me down towards them

 The shame that kept me gagged and bound
with heavy chains down to the ground
has underwent a shift of change
and I will flee, and this black mass
will elevate and fly away
beyond the skies of fiery storm
enfolding our dry earth of scorn

The willpower of helping hand
could drench the dead soil of this land
But it´s too late now as I´m gone
to find the place that I belong
Which lies beyond the gates of dawn
Awaiting for the arrival of the scapegoat.
The prophet is now heading for the sky 

Amber

 Amber

The laughing wood was slipping

a small tune in his mind

emerging towards the surface

all things long left behind

His eyes were full of hunger

His face untouched by time

I sensed the depth of longing

and bound it to be mine.