WHEREVER we take our flight,
     Into the everlasting night;
I shall follow,
     Into yet another plight.

Wherever those stars shall fade,
     Into the ethereal plane;
Embrace the Love of my words,
     Into yet another masquerade.

A TITLE divine is mine,
For a Wife without
A second of the Lord's Time.
Set this Prison free,
Burdened onto me -
The Queen of Chivalry.
Royal is all but the
Crown -
Diadems of my Death.
A lake to Heaven opens,
When two eyes meet
A Crystal to Crystal -
Rebirth - Renaissance;
Clouded -
Just in moments
Of a Loving Victory -
Erased away,
With the Title

Of Wife,
      And Husband,
And on her mood's decay,
Breaking their melody,
In this life,
Is it ever her own day?

A SOLEMN thing it was,
      To see a woman white as can be,
And wear, under forbidden bells of melody,
      Her hallowed gown of mystery.

Such a timid thing to drop a life,
       Into the wedding's well;
A well so bottomless, that it shall return -
       Eternity until.

I ENVY the seas of Neptune that he rides,
      I envy the thrills,
Of his royal chariot of May;
      Gracing these glistening hills.

Gaze upon our journey, Love!
       Where the stars may gleam
On our forbidden melody,
       Bless this love, unto me!

I envy lakes of Swans,
        That flutter on August Eves,
That bless a forbidden Love,
        With newfound Autumn Leaves.

Opened is the portal,
         On this summer's Eve for me,
That jewels and diadems of Wealth,
         Shall never; could never be.

I envy our everlasting light,
         And bells that gently ring
Over that fateful evening,
         That - envy shall bring.

Yet interrupt Spring's blossom,
         Even when our hearts may bleed,
Run into this everlasting night,
         Under the stars with me.

I LIVE with him,
      On every dying day;
Until it's sundown,
      Calls my own decay.

Only foreboding is the Love of mine,
      A divine right that he;
Painted the seas invisible,
      No marriage granted me.

I live with him,
       I stand alive today;
Behold the melancholy,
       Of our dying decay.

Teach me the Time -
       That counts our days;
For our Love is darkness,
       In a sagacious haze.

LET me not dwell on a Spirit's dream,
        By a Lover's pain;
But only endure my everlasting plight -
        So it may arise again.

I found a SPIRIT down in the meadow,
Just by the fireside on New Year’s night;
    I held his words to my chest.
“When there ever is a sea of Love,
Hold your gaze into it’s eyes.”

And two days past the four scores of End,
As I breathed February’s Air,
    Donning the Queen’s Gown;
The spirit came around the bend -
“Love for the Maiden so fair,
Who’s loveship; in the sea went down -
And are you happy now?”

My heart must be a SPARROW,
    Because it flies!
My heart must be mortal,
    Because it dies!
Hang that Sparrow from the tree!
    Ah, my sweet Heart,
Why do you burden me?

Not with a SWORD is a heart slain,
       Not with the Angel's Tune;
Is a mirror of wonderment,
       That gleams in the Dark of the Moon.

Lash at the Guardian Golem,
        Until it falls -
Collar them the noble,
        For the keys to the heart of the Doll.

Sagacious was the bird,
         That the maiden descried;
Just above the chamber,
         To the heart that died.

DUST off your Voodoo doll of Love,
    And take it from your drawer;
Auction it away in Sorrow,
    For another Soul to endure.

LORD, I present thee not the tears -
    That froze out in the cold;
I bring thee the Heart of Darkness,
    That was only Fool's Gold.

Lord - Dampen the Black Roses,
     That ceased to grow;
Upon my Spring of Sorrow -
     Tell me Lord; what love do I know?

Oh, my forsaken aching HEART!
   We shall forget him; You and I;
Let the lovebirds sing -
   The sorrows to the sky.

Ah, Prithee - Pass me the Gin;
     My heart needs to drown -
To hearken of better days;
     May it falter his Crown!

There is a Puppet Master,
  Who strings her spirit,
Silences her melody;
  Taketh her merit.

There is a Puppet Master,
   Of the ethereal plane;
A Soul of Thieving Spirit,
   Dead for their mortal Dame;

There is a Puppet Master,
    Closing his show -
For just one Spirit,
    Scalped by a Damsel aglow.