The Crossing

In the dark I dream of Constantine
And the treasures he'd kept hid
Of an ice world in the desert
Where we trace the paths of the dead

In truth, we have crossed over
The river valley looms - and the undertaker
With those lifeless eyes
Glazed over me
Forty days and nights
The unending silent scream

Ghostly faces shuffle by
And their dirges stain the sky
As they forage through great copper chests
For the breath that they'd been denied

Storm clouds roll and anguish
The barren cities of our heart
And the four winds hammer constantly
Crest-fallen waves we part
We sail - and never to return
I lay and dream of Constantine to the end



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