Far down the path of firelight dreams
in the blue-spun twilight hours.
Along the lane of winding and silk
winged and sacred bowers.
Alone and aloof
in a fairyland fanfare
where the warrior child
can hide away in his
Templar of the immortality
slays the beast in comfort's shelter.
Climb up the black and sulphurous hill,
will find caskets of silver.
Live the legend, live life all alone,
longing to linger in lore.
Illuminating a lane
leads you aloft.
You're lost to the lunar lure.
Leave the languish,
leave lanterns of lorn.
Lend lacking lustre to
Liberate the laces
of life for the lone
lest lament yet alights.
Beyond the fields of emerald green
and over the
Past ruby skies there lies your salvation:
to live out your true emotions.