In the beguiling romance of a flower
as it grows like lichens up a tower
A melancholic thought does rise,
born deep into the grey-green eyes
of a boy, who's song he forgot how to play.
So alone he sits, indoors all day.
The thought itself does manifest
into homesickness of the family crest
a malady of ferocious discord
from into which the boy had been born,
It was not an affliction that is caught.
Dreaming of life, this boy is from the north.
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 4:43 PM UTC
In the beguiling romance of a flower
as it grows like lichens up a tower
A melancholic thought does rise,
born deep into the grey-green eyes
of a boy, who's song he forgot how to play.
So alone he sits, indoors all day.
The thought itself does manifest
into homesickness of the family crest
a malady of ferocious discord
from into which the boy had been born,
It was not an affliction that is caught.
Dreaming of life, this boy is from the north.