Sometimes quite is violet,
Sometimes silence speaks,
Sometimes the soul squeaks.
I dive into the oblivion.
The world where magic is just an idiom
The world where fauve colours jitter
Is this a glimpse of reality? Where hearts glitter.
Or maybe a spark of virtuality? Where lives flitter.
In this grave hour, we speak.
We speak of devils and the heavens above.
We speak of the sooths, we speak of love.
We sing. We dance.
To the tunes of the power, unseen.
Till the hearts pour down, till we feel the piene.