You slide across the branches,
Your glitter is fertile pollen,
You're shadows in the shape of leaves.
A wind that ripples the crest of waves against the current,
You caress the rivers but you are the springs.
Your eyes: buds which are moistened by the dew,
Beyond webs of obscurity.
The branches swing you
Then you glide on your transparent wings.
| 1 | Nothingness |
| 2 | Medusa |
| 3 | The Grave |
| 4 | Sepulchres |
| 5 | The Land Beyond |
| 6 | The Cliff of Suicide |
| 7 | The Monk |
| 8 | Stagione Oscura |
| 9 | Penelope |
| 10 | Spirit Dance |