A holiday of sorrow for the heart that burns low
a step at a time away from the sunrise of youth
I long for the time I walked on the surface of the sun
in love dizzying and drunk on life
I miss that heliocentric delight
a curse of age, the decay of love
the heart still beats, but pumps nothing but blood
no heat, no light, not but a hollow sound
a scarecrow in the wind, a straw man of nothing
will that love ever arise from the ashes
or have my wax wings burned off never to return
