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The moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait |
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Soft winds whisper the bidding of trees |
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As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart |
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And the mid-nightmare trampling of dreams |
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But oh, no tears please |
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Fear and pain may accompany death |
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But it is desire that shepherds its certainty |
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As we shall see |
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She was divinity's creature that kissed in cold mirrors |
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A queen of snow, far beyond compare |
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Lips attuned to symmetry sought her everywhere |
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Dark liquored eyes, an Arabian nightmare |
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She shone on watercolors of my pond life as pearl |
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Until those who couldn't have her, cut her free of this world |
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That fateful eve when the breeze stank of sunset and camphor |
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Their lanterns chased phantoms and threw |
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An inquisitive glance, like the shadows they cast |
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On my love picking rue by the light of the moon |
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Putting reason to flight or to death is their way |
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They crept through woods mesmerized |
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By the taffeta ley of her hips that held sway |
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Over all they surveyed save a mist on the rise |
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A deadly blessing to hide her ghost in the fog |
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They raped and left, five men of God, her ghost in the fog |
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Dawn discovered her there beneath the cedar's stare |
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Silk dress torn, her raven hair flown to gown her beauty bared |
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Was starred with frost, I knew her lost |
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I wept 'til tears crept back to prayer |
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She'd sworn me vows in fragrant blood |
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"Never to part, lest jealous Heaven stole our hearts" |
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Then this I screamed ,"Come back to me |
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For I was born in love with thee |
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So why should fate stand in between?" |
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And as I drowned her gentle curves |
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With dreams unsaid and final words |
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I espied a gleam trodden to earth |
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The church bell tower key |
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The village mourned her by goodbye |
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For she'd been a witch, their men had longed to try |
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And I broke under Christ seeking guilty signs |
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My tortured soul on ice |
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A queen of snow, far beyond compare |
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Lips attuned to symmetry, sought her everywhere |
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Trappistine eyes, an Arabian nightmare |
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She was Ursuline possessed of a milky white skin |
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My porcelain yin, a graceful Angel of sin |
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And so for her the breeze stank of sunset and camphor |
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My lantern chased her phantom and blew |
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Their chapel ablaze and all locked in to a pain |
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Best reserved for judgment that their Bible construed |
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Putting reason to flight or to flame unashamed, I swept from cries |
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Mesmerized by the taffeta ley of her hips that held sway |
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Over all those at bay, save a mist on the rise |
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A final blessing to hide, her ghost in the fog |
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And I embraced where lovers rot, her ghost in the fog |
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Her ghost in the fog, her ghost in the fog |
