The thief, the usurper
She rides through the black
With her white robes
And dusty, pale hair.
She calls
Minstrels and men, vagrants and virgins;
Singing to them about light
That is not her own
With dulcet murmurs, lofty promises.
Her children hide behind her
Luminescent skin like moths
Hiding from the blue nighttime-
Mother! They cry, their tears streaking
Through the sky onto the Earth,
Leaving behind iron and fire.
This vagabond, she does not suckle them,
For she is lightless, left with only
A hard, round face
Full of silence and fear
Leaving men and me to reach for her,
And she, she spins away.
Umbridged is the king
Who reigns bright beams upon those
Living on the blue skin of his sister-
Ah, his sister, a lady of green
Dotted with poppy jems and violet jewels.
She is forgotten when the larcenist shows
Her hair. Lost and lonely, it is made fair
By the light of the king.
The pilferer is made to feel whole
And beautiful. The green lady,
She is wrathful, spitting fire, spitting ice.
Still the **** is unknown,
Unknown to all the land
And the lords and ladies that reap it,
And the king whose crown stays lit
And warm on his sister's rough face,
And the Lady Green who curses and weeps
For the capture of the thief that creeps
Throughout the cold, cloudless night.
A reward for any who can catch her,
A knighthood for any to tame her.
Unbeknownst to her admirers the damnable ****
Is nothing more than a mere handmaiden
For the Lady Green. A lonely *****
Hidden away during the light of morn
Til darkness descends and
The royals' house is torn.
May she continue to steal their precious
Gold and eyes and praise and skies
With her bright pale hair,
Long when the day ceases to be.
One day the king shall burn his sister, the blue *****
Freeing the lonely handmaiden forevermore.
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
The thief, the usurper
She rides through the black
With her white robes
And dusty, pale hair.
She calls
Minstrels and men, vagrants and virgins;
Singing to them about light
That is not her own
With dulcet murmurs, lofty promises.
Her children hide behind her
Luminescent skin like moths
Hiding from the blue nighttime-
Mother! They cry, their tears streaking
Through the sky onto the Earth,
Leaving behind iron and fire.
This vagabond, she does not suckle them,
For she is lightless, left with only
A hard, round face
Full of silence and fear
Leaving men and me to reach for her,
And she, she spins away.
Umbridged is the king
Who reigns bright beams upon those
Living on the blue skin of his sister-
Ah, his sister, a lady of green
Dotted with poppy jems and violet jewels.
She is forgotten when the larcenist shows
Her hair. Lost and lonely, it is made fair
By the light of the king.
The pilferer is made to feel whole
And beautiful. The green lady,
She is wrathful, spitting fire, spitting ice.
Still the **** is unknown,
Unknown to all the land
And the lords and ladies that reap it,
And the king whose crown stays lit
And warm on his sister's rough face,
And the Lady Green who curses and weeps
For the capture of the thief that creeps
Throughout the cold, cloudless night.
A reward for any who can catch her,
A knighthood for any to tame her.
Unbeknownst to her admirers the damnable ****
Is nothing more than a mere handmaiden
For the Lady Green. A lonely *****
Hidden away during the light of morn
Til darkness descends and
The royals' house is torn.
May she continue to steal their precious
Gold and eyes and praise and skies
With her bright pale hair,
Long when the day ceases to be.
One day the king shall burn his sister, the blue *****
Freeing the lonely handmaiden forevermore.