Schizomorphic song

20 03 2011



she’s a dream, she’s a nightmare,

she’s a beam, in the night’s stare,

she’s the sun, the dark side of the moon,

she’s on the run, frustrating fleeting boon.


she’s the sea, and the hidden cave,

she’s the tree, the unspoken stave,

the stealthy wolf, by the blood river’s bank,

a never ending gulf, she’s an abysmal pang.


she stepped in my way, god got mixed in the strings,

stood me on stage one day, she was put in the wings,

to fly once again, retire to her land,

of milk, honey and pain, she’s alone as she’d planned.


she’s the brick, in my pane,

she’s the ice, and the cooling frame,

she’s a trick, she’s insane,

she’s a ghost, in my open grave,

she’s a lure, an eternal game,

a flying star, an escape in vain.


she’s Phaedra’s Isle, and Eden’s hair,

she’s Medusa’s smile, and the Siren’s stare,

she’s heavenly sent, and a call to Hell,

she’s my only repent, and my tolling bell.




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