‘Tis the dullness of a wistful sun
Pending on idle hearts with absent minds
Steel of will orbiting in the kingdom come
Bravery battles for a man-made reward
The jewel island has yielded to blackness
Till the Moor struggles out its very last hope
Beaconing for a human heart
Pumping and bloody to become a savior
Tell-tale signs of a chimed grandfather clock
To whom this oddity is brushed off
How should the rays of enlinghtment touch thee?
When nymphs have dressed thee in black waters
Oh Birdy, my birdy, thy journey thus far is a naught,
Crossing hearts and minds
Blasting truths and dares.
“Abandon ship”, the Master said,
By the death of the intern our salvation is at hand,
But without thee ‘tis only a broken wasteland.
Spelling our good-byes hastily
In the wrong neglected scriptures,
Discarding the immortal wine from the Silver Cup
Solitude hands us firmly for her whim,
Spiking the innocence of us for her wanton sport,
Crashing beauty and all her trims
For thee I prayed the winds would crack
To lead thee in a green chaos of ambition
Leaving my animal heart in a vain collision
North winds blew with their iron cheeks,
Thus tempted mine passions,
For the resurrected poetry
How not to bloom thou hast taught me,
Taunting has transformed into sweet surrender
A blind man’s buff thus this life will always be.
Exile is a dreadful delight,
For the one who cherishes nothing more
Than the release and rebirth of the spirit.
An Easter Island has thrown me in tempest
Crafting spells and gospels
Leaving my tyrant to an incessant frenzied service
Why, how should you die so fertile in thy prime?
My ingenious dragon your earth has lied to thee,
In bitterness thou shalt live till Kingdoms sleeps.
‘Tis a grey soul that will wrinkle in your calling
A warrior of light, was once called by its sweetheart,
Before the maid found her sudden end, she prayed for Light.
A certain Britomarte shall be thy salvation;
If thou shalt let her Light guide thee out of the shadows,
To walk with thee to the galactic gallows.
The honeyed-guillotine awaits us, dear Shepherd;
Follow the trail of the entwined souls,
That bid thee Farewell, with their dying hallows.