Winds of Time/Catatonia

Nema

 From out beyond Andromeda they blow,
the winds of time.  Gale-currents born of space,
an eddy of infinity gave flow
to them. Through spinning galaxies they race,
to curve about me in my secret place,
and glaze my shoulders with their chiming frost.
So am cold, and infinitely lost.

As in their frigid force they bear along
the dust of ancient races, aeons dead,
I hear the whispered lamentation-song
for stranger-suns whose demolition fed
the winds of time. They beat about my head,
these alien ghosts, their long-past fates unfold.
So I am lost, and infinitely old.

No matter where I hide, the winds pursue
in mindless, chilling fury. So my tears
are frozen on my face; my heartbeat, too,
now slows. All loves and hates and fears
are ice within me, victims to the years
that ride the winds. And my bleak soul is sad,
for I am old and infinitely mad.