Pale Memoirs Of Spring Poem by Goar Fredriksen

At the dusk I descent
into the drained shroud,
years ago I'm fade,
and no single remembrance
possess deceitful lustful hound,
unfathomable ditches has become
as a sanctuary for sleeping mountains
where I existed with you...
painful recollection
of the solitary masquerades
of our spring that I have passed,
it all seems so illusory,
so idle as Irkalla's morning gloom...
just now, remember how...
how could you do this at the crossroads of the time,
I can't remember voices, faces of the others,
only reminiscence of you in my head on rewind...
so tired of maledictory emperor role,
to go with you I resurrect my carnal shroud,
but only when the gods will fall...