Silent Thunder - Mephisto Walz

My bed is a garden where voices all meet

Hands skim through water beneath my pillow

Stones like rain wash away the hours

The hands on my clock sex wilted flowers

Silent thunder cries me to sleep

Falling from the edge so steep

And if my eyes shy from the morning

My lips will taste of unripened fruit

Words without language call from the past

The future was the day before the last