I can feel the wind is changing,

Brushing past songs of broken dreams,

It is the sun in the dark

The long road past all these empty glasses

The storm that crashes through

It is the sun in the dark

I can feel the world is falling,

I can see the wind is twisting becoming a song

Of tears and drinks

A storm of gin and whisky

It is the sun in the dark,

I see the world is moving on,

All the keys to the doors are being broken,

And all the glasses fill with dust.

I feel I can not move

An empty house is made of all these lost things

And we're so far gone

I can feel the world is fading,

I can see the wind is breaking, becoming a poem

Of pain and sin

A storm of memories and emotions

It is the sun in the dark,

The eye of the last storm

The sun in my heart,

Become my heart

As black as the cloud which hangs over my mind

The sun is gone and broken,

It's light has faded,

Her voice is gone through the ages

I can feel the world is calling,

I can see the wind is twisting, becoming a voice

Of waking reason

A storm of change and chaos

It is the sun of my heart,

And the heart of the renaissance.

The Heathen Dragon calls out,

Twisting soul of moonlight.

Hollow soldier of heathen knights.

Hellion abandoned for unrelinquished crimes of old

And ashes follow in your wake,

Heathen Dragon of the moon.

Hollow soldier we do tell.

Do you recall for which you stood?

Old towers crumbled into dust

And kingdoms fallen long ago.

Do you see the stars? Homes left abandoned after dark…

Your shadowed wings did fall that night…

And into Hell you hath descend.

Never to return again,

But here you lie awake again.

Never to have left this cage,

And here you are amidst your failures…

All these bones doth belong to you.

Alone after dark, with shadows that do dance and swing

And sing your song of fate.

Heathen Dragon do you hear?

Hollow bells do toll no more

And in the silence all that's left is moonlight.

I have all these books, and all this food,

It has nowhere to go,

And no use to be had.

It idles in void between me and somewhere,

And somewhere is never to arrive,

Stuck between the era of low and high.

Neither beginning nor end.

But I'm sure it'll be in my fates.

An empty bank account,

With not a cent to add to my remaining dime,

And with no rhyme to entertain my reason.

A thousand pages could not describe the joy I feel

As it enters my grasp,

And not a single expression can describe

The emptiness I feel

As it all fades.

As though all my joy can be summed up into a pen,

And leave me behind as soon as it's written on my skin.

Never to be reminded, till I taste it in my mouth again,

Or feel it upon my fingers as I turn the page,

And feel elation

Turn into ecstasy.

And in between every second of indulgence,

I'll finally feel satiety,

Like an addict whose forgotten

That the drug is only a travesty

That covers the ugly bruise inside.

And it lasts not but a second too short,

Before it's gone with the wind.

Ash in my fire,

And dust on my shelf.

Books left untouched,

Food unate,

As I sink low and low into my own fodder of unenlightenment.

Debased as I am to know,

That all the money in the world, hasn't bought me joy

And I feel as empty as I did yesterday,

And as empty as I'll feel tomorrow.