Troisi?me R?pons
I am the eyes of the Basilisk
As you enter the forest of my sleep,
Drawing aside the bushes of glimmering light,
You will remember the prayer of Orion
Drifted in me, you are alone
The hour approaches and the Moon, dim as clay,
Pours a sea of tears into our swollen eyes
Kill the dying in my soul, my love,
For Death once dead bears no more dying then,
And you'll be dead to strike the dead
I have written your name so often
On the chiselled vault
But my writing hands are the roots of my misery
Now everything stands still
In the wake of the Angel