Song of the Nightingale
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Death is but a mask that only the living dare to don
To be danced within the light of day, and when the sun sets, forever gone
It speaks to those who tread in fear and walks passed those who want prey’d
Ever trappèd will I stay? Ever forcèd to remain?
With angels wings my voice did soar and in demons I appeared
A face which words cannot bear to describe and eyes that look only on fear
A rose bud so tight against my strain, and in whispers did it weep
Try as I might to send it hither, even in glory lies unending pain so deep
Lyric and verse give means to cry in beauty of heavenly light
But nigh will this rose bud budge to be bloomed for the song of the Gale of Night.