Septic Flesh

She dances with the moonlight
In a ring with the silent forest
and the stars' jewels
embroidered in her ethereal garment
From silver lips chameleon thoughts
transmitted to the deepest cave
the sanctuary of the sleeping dragon
Slowly recovering its wounded mind
from the false reflections
of a broken mirror
I will cross the moat
that keeps our worlds apart
May your nebulus hands be my shroud