The spectral lines of your eyes of fire
Border my mirror, burning through the veils
Of clocks and maps and doors of dreams.
My bedroom walls sing the echo of your whisper.
And skies of smoke, and curtained hearts
Envelope us, the perfect hiding spot.
But earthen ramparts a mile high
Would never hide you from me.
And now you plead and weep a tear,
But every step away had proved
That you will never comprehend, my dear
The spectrum of my love.