Do you remember the moon lit

Ivory gardens we once walked

The secret realms we fashioned

Like gods long forgotten

Do you remember the scented

Star pinioned night that was ours alone

And the iris pouring moon

That whispered words arcane

We are but spectres in this haggard and marble realm

Fading shapes in the moon's uncertain light

We are but whispers in the babel of voices

The last echoes of a long dead world