Fade

Standing on the very verge of what was once a perfect world,
With nothing but a shard of glass, an era, come to pass without a word.

A single song sung slightly, slitting in amongst the trees,
And a heart of stone, ensnared, alone, eluded by the pattern of the breeze.

Together, half of daemon, angel, shattered shadow, shattered light,
Cold, intertwined, the night, aligned, emotionless and numb against the sight.

Within a blur, a flash of air, inferno trapped beside a passion song,
Drifting, evermore, an evanescent call of lore, deluded by the fire all along.