Of Gods are born the crystalline harbored sighs
Chants joyous raised upon feathered lips
Nobly wild we dance to one who never dies
Eternal suns and moons play at love's mortal eclipse
Daring fragilities opal ego trips
To one Purple shade we bend--we pray
Might this foreshadow some divine apocalypse?
A pulling, a calling to the vast blue sky?
Yet, how we waken here--how open become our eyes
Now in truth we recognize one of fey
To know the wild rhyme, to understand the why
A God of tempest's symphony in a rasberry beret
How can magic ever reappear and restore?
This dark, metamorphic age pressed on Earth's orb
This world of Sorrow and Love we must now Absorb