The Room of Paintings - Dawn of Relic

I dream of thee

In these dreams

You lie dead before my feet

Outside, the winter night

Cold dismal sight

As the harvest moon paints our guise

Somewhere…

Somehow…

In time…

There’s a killer on the loose

In the room of paintings

In the dead moonlight

Then I awake to this sight

There’s no horror no fright

Just an omen of the

Forthcoming demise

So many nights

Long pineland winters passed

So many nights

Since I’ve heard the sea of June