Shards of music, dancing there,
Right above my outstretched hands.
Stars so far away encased in frosty air,
That lingers now, like fog across the lands.
Diamonds gleaming just beyond the shadows.
Shall we walk the dreamer's path tonight?
Or take another chance just to suppose,
We dwell with angels in the light?

While spinning worlds pass on and candles fade,
And spirits take the winding streets in dusky haze,
Like demons dancing on the new-turned grave,
While inside fearful women kneel to pray.
And silver bells that chime just out of hearing,
Their muffled sound in echoes like the waves,
That drowned the sailors, trapped and fearing,
And put the bodies in those graves.

Ropes creak taught, with brine and salt and age,
Our vessel skimming 'cross the gentle sea,
Wreathed in cloud and philosophers so sage,
While drums announce the coming jubilee.
The ship that sails us out to paradise:
Crowded with the angels, white and fair,
Who talk amongst themselves of fire and ice,
And things we never saw were there.

And the worlds we knew are grey and faded,
And shadows flicker 'mongst the coals,
Living ghosts, and travelers grim and jaded,
Scarred faces, weary, broken souls.
And all we do talk of seeing angels.
And lie here trapped within the darkened rooms,
And long to finally hear the music; bid farewell
And sleep here till we waken from our tombs.