Of Petrichor Weaves Black Noise Ne Obliviscaris
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[Xenoyr & Tim Charles]
Swan of pale
Of porcelain white
Her halo, a bloody sun
Framing a Botticelli face
Of petrichor weaves black noise
Where her frame disfigures
Pale of the swan, painted, dying
Wilting in red ribbons
Lashing black sails, a tattered mane
Her mouth, a death's head smile
Tongueless choirs and baited breath
Ever watching... The angels beheaded
Bleeding this heart, come clarity
Resonance
Of petrichor weaves black noise
Light draped, ephemeral
Her stain glass horizon
The houseglass shattered
Glacial starfell memories
Caligari haunting
Within this cabinet of change
Upon flutter eye wings
In efflorescence, the shadows' sarabande
And silence was her name, the silence so loud
Swan of pale
Of porcelain white
Her halo, a bloody sun
Framing a Botticelli face
Of petrichor weaves black noise
Where her frame disfigures
Pale of the swan, painted, dying
Wilting in red ribbons
Lashing black sails, a tattered mane
Her mouth, a death's head smile
Tongueless choirs and baited breath
Ever watching... The angels beheaded
Bleeding this heart, come clarity
Resonance
Of petrichor weaves black noise
Light draped, ephemeral
Her stain glass horizon
The houseglass shattered
Glacial starfell memories
Caligari haunting
Within this cabinet of change
Upon flutter eye wings
In efflorescence, the shadows' sarabande
And silence was her name, the silence so loud
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