On the battlefield of love there are no clean vanquishers nor defeated, there are neither right ones nor wrong ones, and there aren't any gains without losses.
Inspired by the song from Mozart l'Opéra Rock, "Victime de ma victoire"; Sarah/Jareth
Victims of the Victory
The curves of faint lips mask sham,
Regrets are curtained with laughs.
When allies return to another realm,
The moon outshines latern lights.
2
Her fictitious kingdom's as great,
As deep as those fathomless nights,
Enough to avoid her own glance,
Reflected in his haunting eyes.
3
Rote days, roundbaout oubliettes,
Flat centuries nobody counts,
They're prisoners of lonely fates,
So close, yet so far like two stars.
4
Garnet wine in a crystalline glass,
Fallen dreams, drained of the blood,
Tunes are vain for she cannot dance
In the arms which never enchant.
5
Thus, she waits for the thirteenth hour
To confess in the lament of sighs,
"Pity, both of us have no power,
Power over the wilful hearts".
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