The rose

welcome home the brother of tales,
the story that will soon turn to stone,as the bitter reality is stretched beyond the illusion,
the masked faces will cry no more.

like the fruit of his mind,
the artist carries his soul,
while dreaming of the sweet voice,
and the sadness of the melody he stole.

tonight the tired ghost shall drink,
and sit sleepless beside the tomb,
while the fading dreams of the sober king,
finally should fail him soon.

the beginning carries a burden,
that the ending must relieve,
and for these hollow words of destiny,
these pages of history must grieve.

sing for the high kingdom,
the towering gates of heaven be proud,
for the angels of mercy stand guard by no truth,
as their words of worship forever resound.

darkness swallows the silence,
as sightless stars forgive the night,
and our beloved vesper smiles upon heaven,
and may the hallowed ground bless her sight.

by the abyss should the darkness rise,
thunderous echoes of mock laughter ring,
the tongue of trouble should the serpent taste,
and the cold fear with the nightmares bring.

the silver moon denied her promised glory,
behind her face must these shadows play,
where the faint memory will never linger,
and the night will never break the day.

the fallen angels will make their battle,
a war of ages the greatest compared,
the victory or loss can neither touch,
as time is left to play the final dare.

the waking ocean hides the chaos,
for the new world saw witness,
and tears from heaven fall with the sky,
bring with the fall of gods and the eternal kiss.