The Rise And Fall Of Seasons

Wake up to the swift scent of the morning,
the source of all magic,
repelling the masses collectively swarming.
Dress in the morning cloak for those who wouldn't have it.
Just remember the lies,
the children's eyes,
they tried to put you to the test
with their gentle caress.
Did they succeed?

There are things in your head,
drawing perfect circles with the color red,
they're leading you.
Around the carousel,
around the room,
out the window and down to Hell.
Now might you hear the haunting bell?
It's the toll.
The toll must be paid,
its the customary choice we made.
The harbor goes on dark and empty,
until the ships arrive that bring in plenty.

Seen it all, has the captain,
driver of ships,
wishing for fair ladies' lips,
exposed...delicate, wrapped in a mask containing habits
as seasons do pass.
For it was in autumn that we made our toast.
All those feelings,
drunk emotion that we love most.
The single banshee wail that can be heard
coast to coast.
Then came adventure,
and the crystal winter.
Seven snowflakes for the hour,
more than ever this looks dour.
The exhibition was planned and perfect.
To those seated...poised it was worth it.

Set across frozen rivers,
beautiful images of splendor.
Where the tail ends someone shivers.
Here begins the dangerous endeavor.

Winter's howl had increased,
as did numbers of the deceased.
Icy crystals over dying eyes,
brought forth a new perspective on our lives.

When men cried out,
no sound emitted from their mouth.
Frozen lungs produced one last icy breath,
winter takes nothing, but a cold, cold death.

Now alone, I must not weep.
No materials left for me to keep,
for the icicles will cut me deep,
a frozen blood blanket for me to sleep,
until...the awakening.

In a true Christ model,
a resurrection,
somewhere safe,
spring has come forth to take winter's place.
Now a new birth out of chaos.
Field of rosebuds, a new wine,
to dance as if before time.
The swamps rejoice in rejuvenation.
The one and only,
the right of true passage,
feel the sensation.

With sweet and innocent sounding music
floating through thin air.
Tongues free to speak.
Love beginning to pleasantly creep.
The summer nights are at their peek,
life is now equal to happiness.
Strings and fire,
now create a night to remember.
Wine, women, and song,
there's nothing to fear
nothing could go wrong.
Until the season's end, thus,
in succession,
the fall.