Prelude to a tangerine dream,
the sky’s tired eye
begins to close;
leafy eyelashes
begin a sinister enmeshment
while quiet colours are kidnapped
by the dark stranger.
The hall of the night-king
echoes with the fading lamentation
of birds.
This night has no shining armour
for the moon is hidden
ambushed by cloud.
A ransom demand
comes in dreams
where maidens are sacrificed,
shackled by silver silence,
in the dungeon of sleep
and the undoing of time.
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