The Cold Grey Skies of New Year’s Eve

Under the cold grey skies of New Year’s Eve
She walks like a giant shadow shimmering against the sky
In her hands raindrops grasp for air
The silent air pensive with rage

Under the cold grey skies of the Millennium’s end
All the loves in her heart are crying
There are tears amongst the rotten fruit?
There are wooden horses in the shadows

The cold grey skies hide the sun and stars
Hopes rise from the black inky depth of dark dreams
A quiet pain tickles her heart with an unknown song
As tumbling golden words roll through the spirit world

The cold grey skies begin their transformation
Soon the ghostly empty summer shadow will take flesh
The heat of the new century is to be braved
The lure and the light of love is to be conquered

My words are cold like brittle ash
They fade before me like the words of the dead
The cold grey skies are quietly alone
They look through my eyes without conclusions

In the old Millennium, she is an actress in a bar
Repeating her performances to the cheers of drunks
The wine flows like blood between tables and chairs
The mirrors are steamed up and no one can see

The cold grey skies of the Millennium’s end
Are the same grey skies of many a winter
But the greatest men have set down their running blocks
The great men have made their chalk marks on the field

The new age will end the old age
The old memories the old world will have to go
Then the cold grey skies will be free
Free from the reflections in an old man’s eyes


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