The Machine In The Garden fade

beátam me dÃu00adcent ómnes (all shall call me blessed)
around the leaves and willow wisps
the starlight fades out of the mists
there is a journey to find another
a distant place i will uncover
to pacify these aches and pains
and taste the warmth of a summer rain
in this swirl where memory exists
the stream flows away out of the mists