The Snowfield

          (La Danse Macabre)

Soulless empty field fills

Music made to see

Misunderstood and condescending

All the better free

Razorblade snowflakes

Like shards through white skin cut

And bloody wings and demons dance

Softly born to rot

Nothing here but sand and snow

Crystalic dirty glass

Truth untold, unmade, unfold

And nothingness to pass

Angelic faces and hell-red horns

Hand in hand descend

Dancing across the sand swept snow

Yearning all to mend

Sickened heart's angel calls

Loneliness has voice

And in this striking hour afraid

A wrongly thought out choice

Blood and guilt in masses painted

On the snow deface

Beauty all the earthly tears

could not ever erase

Rising sun to meet the dawn

Macabre ball will end

Angels, demons, all feathered wings

Homeward bound are sent