The Grand Celebration کے بول

See the bird and its opulent beauty It asks not for love, it asks not for pity Yet mine eyes do betray me, for the feathers hath fallen The bird is no longer; a child in its place Her face... her face... A muse of stone and mirrors, concealed beneath the veil of a smile Within her hand I can see the shimmer, the steel that screams to taste my flesh... To unbind and unshackle me, once and forever I am nothing again... I unravel, I dissolve... I remember... The image is fading, these eyes cannot see We pray for their mercy, we pray to be free The sky is my painting, my tears are the rain I open these wings... and feel no more pain