"The Music of Gackt: A Distraction"

Let that dark voice call me
From these empty pages to
His world of color and light:
A sharp cube of fractured glass,
Surrounded by feathers.

Let that pounding beat draw me
From these hollow words to
His world of sound and voice:
A battered sheet of metal,
Wrapped in satin.

Let that passioned cry yank me
From these vacant books to
His world of touch and taste:
A crumbling block of cement,
Scented with vanilla.