Sorrows in the Masque

Climb into the oven with me
Dine with the mother of peace
Sink into the comfort of her dreams
Stare at the borders of her being
Slip from the haven of our means
Flight of this quest to be free

Glide on the feathers of my wings
Escape from the fabric of our weave

Fear is just a fragment from the past
Hope was just a slipper made of glass
Things as this are never meant to last
This fleeting moment moves much too fast
We are refugees from the mass
Who hide our sorrows here in this masque

Glide on the feathers of my wings
Escape from the fabric of our weave

Forget all the things we have seen
Forsake all the comforts we could bring
Listen as the universe sings
Pleasured by a heartless libertine
Partaking from the chalice as it steams
Arousing is the plumage she preens

Glide on the feathers of my wings
Escape from the fabric of our weave