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O Moon God Prisms of White Sell me your dreams. Those crystal visions From high above that nourish this void existence. O Moon God I want to see through your spyhole To feel what you feel To catch you Is like to burn. I am your prisoner Your prince and princess your price is my shadow. Hunt me. O Moon God The stars, your Former skin powdered Tremble blindly. I want to redream myself to mould myself In your ashen image. Your afterglow masks my dreams entirely. O Moon God You lighten the life We could have had Haunted shades Child silhouettes All erased in day. The comfort of darkness. My opal pearl My Samson My God. He’s as cold as you A beacon of tragedy Bone rays of regret. O Moon God Sell me your dreams For I have none.