Fabric

Temple of the old,
Fell me as we grow
Seperatley but time shall see
one day we will reunite.

She would come
if I'd wait.
Time has come
for the the tides to be out;
and yet I feel
so sad.

When we fall
away from here
you would not
see me.

I've no regrets.
No shelter here.
What else could I find?
Not a damn thing
compares.

...and yet I sail
across these lands
of barren waste
and debris.
What is here
but my own lust?

Whelp may suceed
unto surprise.
With this sonata
to hunt by.

Pain comes for a moment
and I turn
far away from the sun
for a moment.

I loved what we had
in the sun
but i know
at night
when I fail....

Every time that the moon is full
I run from my own form
I'm adorned
in the pain I feel
from longing.

...and yet I strive
just to know what you feel
and what it is within us
that gives the capacity for.