yearning for days of yore in elysian daydreams burn with a fatal gloss a confounding mirror of souls dance with the winterwinds in thy visions so sanguine glance upon stygian streams where lies hidden a pale secrecy hark lures of the siren yearn for the days when blithe thou was sworn to a secrecy an arcanum devotee mourning a life with thee a descendance of watery argentine trance of thy frailty endure the exsanguine glance beyond closed eyelids the conundrum of all mysteries hark lures of the siren yearn for the days when blithe thou was crossing in life my heart with silver in times i m weak too weak wan circling skies secretes silvering sorrow precious to me aphelion thou are the fields where we wither still exhaust in thy waning world my aphelion on a broken mirror where the veils of night and day seems as one may thy lids gather again on a vast and frail crusade invigoration of pain pervation this time