The Door To Rhye

The tree is standing, though it's dead,
the leaves fallen all around its feet.
A carpet golden, cold and pure.
A beauty left for all upon the floor.

The door to Rhye is closed today.
The door to Rhye is closed for ever more.
The key is lost and thrown away.
The lock is weeping rust upon the door,
for ever more.

A crow looks on to rainy skies,
The clouds are looming dark before the night.
The last of sunlight clear and pure,
a ray of silver shines upon the floor.

The door to Rhye is closed today.
The door to Rhye is closed for ever more.
The key is lost and thrown away.
The lock is weeping rust upon the door,
for ever more.

A feather falls as evening calls,
and flowers nod their tired heads.
A cold wind breathes upon the bark.
The tree is standing though it's dead.