The skylark weaves through the ages, within the confines of its box
Born, then vanishing, denied the blessing of return
Gathered or scattered, simply as is
People flow with fate
Within the cycle’s turn, enduring
Wherever you may go
Beyond the blue, following the compass’s lead
Towards the path ahead, towards you, beckons the memory of love
When our fingers touched the branch of a mistaken twig, a bud bloomed
Once more, praying for peace, a curse
Guided by moonlight, his heart continues to walk
Born, then disappearing, swallowed by the empty box
Even the spun illusions become reality
In bodies that have shared pain
To you, enduring within the cycle’s turn
I bundle my voice to reach you
Prayers to past shadows, paths woven
Towards the path ahead, towards you, reaching now a closed memory
When our fingers touched the branch of a mistaken twig, a bud bloomed
Offering an untitled fairy tale
Beyond the blue, following the compass’ lead
Towards the path ahead, towards you, beckons the memory of love
Eventually, the branches we crossed, colored each other, blooming into a big flower
Once more, playing the sounds of celebration
Once more, praying for peace, a curse