Tangerine Windows Of Solace

I. Alba

II. Epitome

"And dawn found him there wailing around

The somber remain of his past"

In days of innocence, in guarded, delusive idyll

Conceit ignited silently, at the burial of youth.

In repentant hours I was looking back

Into the future of a desolate past.

Too many coins thrown in fathomless wells

A wish out of reach:

Vague fragments of meaningless days

Performed in the light of flaring candle.

"And from the dregs of life hope to receive

What the first sprightly running could not give"

Memories fade again as dawn awakes.

III. Apotheosis

In hermitage I may wash away the pain.

Strongholds will ward off apathy.

Children, leave these walls for

Zephyr will look the ebon door.

Tears of dread stain a decript face,

Soak the garden and rust the brazen lock.

Morn sees a god in solitude

As torrid skies announce the daily drab.

Maniac laughter escapes a selfish mouth,

Silence is the answer as summer leaves the castle

walls.

Autumn's golden scent perfumes his paradise

Yet northern skies fortell of dreary and darkened days

And the windows still remain untouched and barred,

They hide an anchorite who sighs for his private

apotheosis.

Outside the autumn lord bids farewell, frightened by

the old man's dream

Gives way to winter's icy reign, passing bells

applauding in the haze.

IV. Seasons Of Seclusion (The Prison)

The ambition and transient desires

Breed muted walls of isolation.

Pouring rain soon turned into snow,

Covered the blossoms, a recluse heart

Spring and sun left the old man

Like the children who left with the dawn

Never to return

North wind came all wrapped in grey furs

To disclose the isolation that filled his inert soul

Velvet shades concealing the shadow of a man in

His lifeless world apart.

V. An Essay Of Relief (A Tangerine Dream)

Look far away, so deep within

Through windows of relief, over walls of vanity

Shallow seas drown the tireless rush that hurts

The artless soul, I wish I was there.

Wait by tranquil streams, there's no aspiring thought,

Neither sorrow nor conceit, no desponding word that

We live all in vain:

VI. Disintegration Of Lasting

Old man, is this you hoped to receive

From a life of content?

Look upon your burning world of solace torn

And pride forlorn, nothing remains.

"Through desolate oceans we reach a quiet shore,

Truthless prayers consume our search for lore.

Descend from fictive mountains of content and earthly

fame,

We leave no trace but strongholds built in vain."

VII. Elegy (Window Of Perception)