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Would you like to talk about The winding water And its sprouting light? Yes, The one you can see at night From the soup parlor by the river That serves memories, carved inside A polished mirrored platter Which made the boys all bright And washed them saner Along its tide of deluded truth Come, Would you like to talk about The winding water? The home for a thousand soul All wrapped up, though foul In a confounded streaming wire And there, strayed the traveler For a good four-hundred-year old With his face down, and stories untold Would you like to talk about The sprouting light? From the lanterns hung To adorn the tide long From the flowers of the head Wilted and and still drowned By the name of the lil moon’s All dead hopes Talking about the winding water And its sprouting light The old traveller And the years has passed, our little moon killed itself Just to know that light Eventually looked beautiful Shrouded in darkness Say now, All my darling— Why would you talk about The winding water And its sprouting light? Why romanticize a world Dull and weary? Because beauty is made up, and we live for beauty? Or because we live in beauty, and life is made up?
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
Wilted Streamlighter
Would you like to talk about The winding water And its sprouting light? Yes, The one you can see at night From the soup parlor by the river That serves memories, carved inside A polished mirrored platter Which made the boys all bright And washed them saner Along its tide of deluded truth Come, Would you like to talk about The winding water? The home for a thousand soul All wrapped up, though foul In a confounded streaming wire And there, strayed the traveler For a good four-hundred-year old With his face down, and stories untold Would you like to talk about The sprouting light? From the lanterns hung To adorn the tide long From the flowers of the head Wilted and and still drowned By the name of the lil moon’s All dead hopes Talking about the winding water And its sprouting light The old traveller And the years has passed, our little moon killed itself Just to know that light Eventually looked beautiful Shrouded in darkness Say now, All my darling— Why would you talk about The winding water And its sprouting light? Why romanticize a world Dull and weary? Because beauty is made up, and we live for beauty? Or because we live in beauty, and life is made up?
#moon#nature#flower#water#question#lake#light#wilt#skeptic#misantrophy
noand-hegask
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noand-hegask
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
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