What good is a day?
When all its hardship and all its light;
Has to fade away,
And end in a night.
A world painted in colors of unceasing lives;
Of incessant pace, of relentless sights.
And the ever-changing shades of a familiar world,
All cease to dwell.
As the angels light the butterflies aflame,
And the heavens paint the gloom of the Gods.
I, Queen of the Other Worlds,
Question thee, Oh Wanderer of Life.
Why fight the battles of a mythical dream?
Why seek repose beyond these refulgent skies?
Cause beyond these lights only darkness shall prevail.
Oh Wanderer of Life,
What good is a day,
When all of it has to end in a night?
Oh mighty Queen of the Other Worlds,
I flow through these days like a crinkling stream.
Bathed in the hues of a mortal sky.
Battling the path, dissolving its pain;
An ever changing form seeking absolution.
Then comes the dark,
Lingering through the tinted skies,
As light evades the somnolence of a languid day.
Deprived of sleep I stay awake.
Deprived of drea