I dream of innocence of days long spent beneath summers sun a Carpenters son and royal daughter a Queen and a martyr one girl one boy eyes fuse like alloy caught in a sudden trance a courtship dance loves hypnotic rituals of star filled visuals white lights against black night white Knight versus black Knight this is now a game of chess strategizing what to do next.
Three is a crowd how I wish he wasn't around your first mistake so I sit and wait for the nightmare to be over for my Knights mare to save her I already know the pain she's due it's as old as the sun, this rain isn't new nothing washes away infidelities sinning nothing can make them white sheets of linen once innocence is lost like paradise if only you took another roll at the dice maybe fate is predetermined numbers and maybe innocence only exists in slumber maybe it was lost at birth maybe it's just an ancient curse inherited from days long ago maybe we were never white as snow.
But still I have this martyrs cause yet still I never really give pause the Knight that sacrifices for his Queen for he has already witnessed all to be seen history repeating itself Déjà vu sapping our health reincarnated pain can the black Knight ever be slain? or is it just another side of the coin everyone is still curtain drawing hiding from the dark the day that's lost its spark black night only masks the sun black Knight versus the Carpenters son but white lights appear in the sky the white night is there when we die when our numbers finally up when our slumber finally stops the ending of the night maybe we aren't really Knights maybe we are all just pawns so innocence can be reborn.
I watch the rain as it washes away all the sidewalk chalk the smeared paintings floating away in a stream of beautiful color a vibrant rainbow on a rainy afternoon fuchsia pink swirling around my naked toes children running and laughing in the hot streets the smell of fish and spices makes my belly rumble hot white rice upon a bamboo plate an old woman scooping boiled fish and smiling her toothless smile her soul filled with liquid sunshine as we sit cross legged and laugh like kids
The moon strokes her lovely hair like a mother would her child her porcelain face upturned her pink lips slightly parted maybe awaiting a kiss from a prince
Sometimes I feel that we are all messages in bottles Floating with currents Rising and falling with waves Anxiously waiting for the day to be read by affectionate eyes