Song of old Friend

My friend,
this is not the place
the cut flowers lie scattered on the path
and the light of the moon glistens
in what the stems bleed

in the day just forever lost
I watched a black wasp darting into the face
of a web, and the spider she dropped
only to be caught
in mid-air

footfalls leave no trace
in the wake of the hungry creatures wrath
you can only lie in hope
dreaming
she lightly touched the ground

and danced away
like a breath
hiding beneath leaves nodding in place
while the hunter circles and listens
but pray, nothing is found

so, my friend this is not your face
so pale and still,
never again to laugh
when the moon's light fell and then stopped
cold as silver in the glade

look back on the day
it's forever lost
stare into the night
where things confound

and the web stretches empty
winds keening
in threads of absent songs...


Words by Steven Erikson
Music by Kit Soden