The Heleniad – epilogue

There's a room in my soul where the old shattered dreams
Lie in pieces all over the floor
Where the stillness of time shades the windows, it seems
And a demon stands guard at the door

But sometimes a memory lights in my mind
And it shines in the soft attic air
And a strange kind of music plays sweetly and kind
That I let myself hear, if I dare

This flower of the mountain, this girl Andalusion,
This force I could not understand
Yes your touch Miss Helenius was, in conclusion
The caress of a Theremin hand

But like delicate fragrance of madeleines dipped
Into lime-flowers long gone away
Your succulent kiss so deliciously sipped
Beguiles me even today

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