I once loved a girl
her skin it was bronze.
With the innocence of a lamb
she was gentle like a fawn.
I courted her proudly but now she is gone
Gone as the season she s taken.
Through young summer s breeze
I stole her away From her mother and sister
though close did they stay.
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day
With strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us.
Of the two sisters
I loved the young.
With sensitive instincts
she was the creative one.
The constant scapegoat
she was easily undone By the jealousy of others around her.
For her parasite sister
I had no respect
Bound by her boredom
her pride to protect.
Countless visions of the other she d reflect As a crutch for her scenes and her society.
Myself
for what I did
I cannot be excused
The changes I was going through can t even be used
For the lies that I told her in hopes not to lose The could-be dream-lover of my lifetime.
With unknown consciousness
I possessed in my grip A magnificent mantelpiece
though its heart being chipped
Noticing not that I d already slipped To a sin of love s false security.
From silhouetted anger to manufactured peace
Answers of emptiness
voice vacancies
Till the tombstones of damage read me no questions but
"Please
What s wrong and what s exactly the matter?" And so it did happen like it could have been foreseen
The timeless explosion of fantasy s dream.
At the peak of the night
the king and the queen Tumbled all down into pieces.
"The tragic figure!" her sister did shout
"Leave her alone
God damn you
get out!" And I in my armor
turning about And nailing her to the ruins of her pettiness.
Beneath a bare light bulb the plaster did pound Her sister and I in a screaming battleground.
And she in between
the victim of sound
Soon shattered as a child neath her shadows.
All is gone
all is gone
admit it
take flight.
I gagged twice
doubled
tears blinding my sight.
My mind it was mangled
I ran into the night Leaving all of love s ashes behind me.
The wind knocks my window
the room it is wet.
The words to say I m sorry
I haven t found yet.
I think of her often and hope whoever she s met Will be fully aware of how precious she is.
Ah
my friends from the prison
they ask unto me
"How good
how good does it feel to be free?" And I answer them most mysteriously
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?" |
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