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Plumage - O Fauno do Fío
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---O Fauno do Fío/The Faun of Yarn---
The most beautiful thing a being could conjure,
is to give their all to something they could not understand,
to bask in the small wealth that humanity is,
thou are the greatest award in the greater arms that you shan't never grasp
In lives that add to nothingness,
in stories that unravel in unpoetic drags,
We reach out in the cold murk to touch our god,
only to find the fragile extension of a ghost in our hands,
You've spent all time between the pillars of his teeth,
your life has been consumed but I deem it worth it...
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments,
Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
That, if then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches,
Ready to drop upon me , that, when I Waked,
I cried to dream again
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The warmth of the hearth is to illuminate my heart,
The words that impregnate my spirit are to fill me with song,
The cold stone of the temple is to remain my lar,
Where no hiraeth could be conjured from afar
We struggle, We fast, and sometimes they don't save us,
Some nights are just so cold as to penetrate all faith,
I forgive you,
Though no words congregate in my bones,
I forgive you...
My hollow breath falters at your name,
What is the gift of strength and pax if not to be taken away,
I struggled and starved for you,
And one night took all this away,
I look forward to the glow that will put even death aside,
I'll wait forever...
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