---

Alas, the velevet sky,

Cannot be touched and turned,

Dripping from the pen tip,

Feverish lies, the moon is burned.

---

Behold, a solemn silence,

Cannot be broken,

Lest we fall,

Screaming souls unspoken.

---

Below, and angel weeping,

A porcelain child's face,

Hollow, branching fingers,

Crushed in winter's embrace.

---

Soft, stroking falling shadows,

But lift your head and cry,

And die, and burn,

Under a velvet sky.

---