solemn anguish of a fallen king
the northern spectacle of ice
clamouring upon the crown
of the fallen kingdom
a desolate castle, an empty chamber
the separate treaty
between life and death
scalding mark, embedded on the wrist
of the once called king
****** to death

splitting set of the midnight sun
spitting flames of the headlights
muffled voices of passing people
the unsightly ruse of the ****** and shunned
oh if only life hadn't been unfair
if only the lives of the unfortunate of life have been fortunate
with each passing day, i loathed living
i yearned for death
and one day i'll be able to kiss death
amidst the midnight parade

a soft touch of your kind hand
a subtle whisper to the ear
your gaze, peering through my thick skin
i am tired
slowly drifting away
bereft and unable to move
walls shattered with every raindrops
crippling breeze of sadness creeping in
i hear your voice and think
"have i been yearning for this?
or am i just wanting the impossible?"
the crescent moon wept for me
"why are you crying, child?"
i said
"i've been dreaming of the day i die, dear love.
and i only have you as my ley line."
threw my clothes to the river
with my body, still intact
i'd rather drown in water
than to wither away in despair
my mind's killing me
but what's to lose?
i've already been dead years ago

soft purring of melting cats between your ears
the sound of muffled music filling your mind
you find yourself inside a box
afraid and unknowing of the outside
overwhelmed by the thought of breaking free
you hear the clanking of metal gears
like clockworks made forcibly by madness
you suddenly see the pitch black sky, crack
opening for you to see the outside
you softly hear the sweet sounds of music
as you find yourself dancing into the midnight waltz
and think to yourself
"I am one with the lovely ballet."

Luna my love, are you there?
has the world been cruel or am i insane?
have you been listening to the weeps and wails of lost souls?
for when morning comes, Aine arrives and i may not be here anymore
will you miss me if that happens?
or will you be the same as always and to not care?

on sunday evenings, i see your reflection on the lakes of the meadows, Luna
how we used to talk restlessly about insignificant little frogs up our throat
given the idea that i may die within the forest
with vines as my noose
as you watch me dangling from the tree i used to swing on
maybe these are all wishful thinking

just know that you are everything
Luna my love