Hell, black awe, I am in love
and it's the morning divinity
that I adore
but I'm not made of the essence of clouds.
I am embers and ash of the past.
This won't last.
I'll sit here and watch in vein,
in my circle of longing
the sunrise of an age,
and I'm too small in your gaze;
I am one of the bad ones,
unworthy of praise
And I know that there's nothing to do
to express my respect or my love for you
It's too late now. I'll be gone, into
the darkness of storm,
where I belong.
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