Oh what do you really, quietly, feel?

The eyes of dawn meet me under her grey hoarfrost blanket

Oh I never thought the howling in your heart; could be so cold.

Or so loud or unforgiving; oh give unto me them stars shining...

Through that window, oh what do you really, quietly, feel?

Oh give unto me them spine tingling stars shining...

Where your soul has closed the door; yes I swear I never wanted

This departure: I never wanted to come up sort... with snail brown eyes

Under a shell of stone: Oh I never counted on a virginal green perfection;

I’ve never walked between the gaps in the rain before. But now the hail

Is crashing in the raw and ice winds rap around my chilly feet?

And they do make my heart and spirit hurtfully sore.

Oh I’ve never felt more naked than this before.

Oh I’ve never felt the spider’s web before spinning away our ground

Spinning away our coupling bed, where once joyous ephemeral birds use to wed.

Oh what do you really, quietly, feel?

Lying here I’m in my solitude cocooned wondering why your eyes are so cold

Why all my touches all my approaches are pushed away

Why my wings are broken but yours only tremble to shove off

Like a drifting-flurry of snow... Oh where will you, go...

Now, that your soul has bolted its windows to my gaze and touch.

Oh where will you, go...

Oh what do you really, quietly, feel?

Now in these eyes of dawn the hoarfrost and your heart have begone.