Orchid. (III) "The Opeth Diaries."

Into the thickness, past the foggy moor…
The Wind whispers comfort behind evergreen doors…
I have decided to stay,
For the rest of the day,
Wandering aimlessly on the forest floor.

Maybe it is the breeze, carrying Cardinals’ song…
Or maybe it’s the trees, with their crooked, damp arms.
What could replace,
The vibe of this place…
There is only raw succor here, where nothing seems wrong.

Rain still falls, cold and lonely wherever…
It drips lightly in the river, where we frolick together.
My salt ties with clear,
As the evening draws near…
I have somewhere to go, but why not stay here forever?

Beside the brook, are the vines of thin thorns…
Along their lean limbs, lay light fruit adorned.
My fingers curl around,
While they fall to the ground,
The first meal in ages, to end bondage forlorn.

This forest, these dusks, my humble abode…
I rest down in silence with my body unclothed.
Eyes gently close,
On a high bush of rose…
For the solitary night, the twilight is my robe…