Choirs of the Eye
Album - 23 ottobre 2003 - Debaser id 87278

One morning, before the leaves began changing
I caught a piece of summer and poured it into a pitcher;

This I placed in the cellar on a shelf collecting dust .
Autumn, then winter, rose up from the sea, and my
Garden was a garden filled with unbroken snow.

No flower strained its face to the ice giants' whisper,
No life coloured the vision of a newborn Spring babe.
My cellar-water dripping into a pail

And I lifted my piece of summer
Like a piece of memory or a dream

Like these, caught on film
And carried it to the garden floes,
The wind turning drifting stars to madness.

Poured forth gracefully, this ctheric tincture
Lifts winter's coat-of-arms with coaxing aromas and electricity.
Used with vigilance, a Pitcher of Summer stirs a memory into swooning,
And bravely, the flowers of the past will stretch their limbs into the sky
While snow falls quietly all around.

Dust fills my Mouth with a Timeless Poltergeist Rapping
Lightly upon a Dusty Door;
It Locks the Days together
Yesterday
This Artefact wasn't rightly so.
Flanked by Shelves incorporating me into their Lonely Dream,
I search for Tremors lying Weeping
'Neath the Broken Tiled Floor
Weeping with a Broken Madness,
Weeping for the Day Before.
Tarnished Silver in the Cupboard soothes
The Fathoms of my Aching Silver Beard;
Like Shining Eyes scoured by
A Sour Creaking Gait,
Cataracts dim the
Eloquence that wore
The Shining Cloak of younger Pride,
And This was Long,
Long before their Careless Keeper died.

A Revenant spread its Foul Curse to Every Living Thing
With Stories trapp'd on Yellowed Pages
By Talismans of Poignant Lethargy.
Tales Twilit bear their Ruin'd Words
To this Ghoulish Scenery,
Slouching over Candlelight
Extinguished in another Century.

The Grandfather Clock once Told its Beads,
While Outside the Branches
Bowed their Windows slightly Out of Key.
And this Downstairs, where a
Forlorn Clock has long since Lost its Faith,
And a House's Stale Breath sighs like the
Whispers of a Wraith.

Spiders Decorate an Appearance
That stretches Gnarled Hands
Back into a Relinquished Parlour Game;
Wisps of Ghostly Languor hinting faintly of Perique
Ring the Ancyent Air and Fade,
Murmuring of Things Antique.