zooropamanda
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When I last did see
he had fallen,
fallen and broken without little knowledge
of his very soul.
And in the banquet hall
a shadow whipser of lock and fancy,
caresses his bewitching mind.
'How can he be dead' says she
'For he walks under the light of the moon,
over there by the cherry blossom'
'Is he an angel watcher
Phariseean minds do glance upon his omnipresent mind...
'Wasted he be and virginal like the moon'
Like the burned and crumpled leaves that flit away
on the wind's back,
he shies himself apart from a foreboding call
echoing across the lily white crispen shores.
Close it. Sit Still. Oh, quiet now.
He moves!
'Where does he walk and what does he seek'
'No angels he is watching, no.
The ivy walls carry him to a distant tower of tortures. The angels will not help him there.'
'Perhaps he looks too delicately on one so beautiful and now he wishes he did not.'
'He looks upon beauty, that is true. He most likely can not be saved. Only, if only the lark would sing her peace song and present him her voice.
'And could the lark's voice
bring the angels away from him now?
She seems too small a thing to alter a man's
path.'
'Ah, small but able to crush a bent man's will in her wings. Hush now, the lark is here.'
'But he is gone.'
'His shadow hath moved past the farthest olive tree on the valley green.
'Is the lark too late?'
A call from inside a moonshone curtain. A young couple enter with muffled laughter and whispered hush tones.
The girl: Let me kiss you
The boy: We mustn't. Your father will lock you away in that crimson tower, and for I, he'd take pleasure in the sport of removing my fatherhood.
Girl: Let me kiss you, for a crimson tower would be worth every drop of you.
Boy: and my fatherhood? hmmm but your lips are so soft.
Girl: One kiss and then you can go and our love will never be known and I shall never speak your name again, for but only in my heart.
Boy: and if we have but one kiss and then I leave, would you not want another?
Girl: I will forever be wanting of you but I shall not place such burdens upon you and your heart again, for just one kiss. Do you love me, sweet boy?
Boy: Forever into eternity and past the otherside, over the high walls and beyond the sun. Now let me kiss you.
As they kiss, the moon clouds send a violent storm shivering over the house and a violent rage drags the girl spiralling into her crimson tower.
Days, suns, and many moons pass to the beat of the deathangel's drum.
The boy banished and caged
outside the tower.
His tears mold a river of bitter embraces around its walls.
On a harsh winter's eve
light jumps, cackles
sits on the boy's shoulder to whisper in his ear.
'Your love is dead. Forever waiting for your hand, forever tormented by her broken heart, she spoke your name three times.
For she knew to do so would break your curse.'
'My curse?'
'For she to speak your name three times..you are free. But she is now dead. The freedom of your curse was to take her own life.'
and so the winds do crawl back to the angel hour...
'His shadow has left the dirt forever now.'
'Can his soul be saved atleast?'
'Before he casts his last breath? It is too late for that now.'
'His last breath?'
'It is only the sighs of his shadow that we no longer see.His curse was lifted. HIs loss was too much for him to bear.'
'But now her death is in vain. He has not honoured her love by losing himself, has he not?
'It was not for him to choose. The angel of death had marked them long ago.'
'What was the point then? What purpose did their love serve? Did their lives serve?'
'Why, to give of course.'
he had fallen,
fallen and broken without little knowledge
of his very soul.
And in the banquet hall
a shadow whipser of lock and fancy,
caresses his bewitching mind.
'How can he be dead' says she
'For he walks under the light of the moon,
over there by the cherry blossom'
'Is he an angel watcher
Phariseean minds do glance upon his omnipresent mind...
'Wasted he be and virginal like the moon'
Like the burned and crumpled leaves that flit away
on the wind's back,
he shies himself apart from a foreboding call
echoing across the lily white crispen shores.
Close it. Sit Still. Oh, quiet now.
He moves!
'Where does he walk and what does he seek'
'No angels he is watching, no.
The ivy walls carry him to a distant tower of tortures. The angels will not help him there.'
'Perhaps he looks too delicately on one so beautiful and now he wishes he did not.'
'He looks upon beauty, that is true. He most likely can not be saved. Only, if only the lark would sing her peace song and present him her voice.
'And could the lark's voice
bring the angels away from him now?
She seems too small a thing to alter a man's
path.'
'Ah, small but able to crush a bent man's will in her wings. Hush now, the lark is here.'
'But he is gone.'
'His shadow hath moved past the farthest olive tree on the valley green.
'Is the lark too late?'
A call from inside a moonshone curtain. A young couple enter with muffled laughter and whispered hush tones.
The girl: Let me kiss you
The boy: We mustn't. Your father will lock you away in that crimson tower, and for I, he'd take pleasure in the sport of removing my fatherhood.
Girl: Let me kiss you, for a crimson tower would be worth every drop of you.
Boy: and my fatherhood? hmmm but your lips are so soft.
Girl: One kiss and then you can go and our love will never be known and I shall never speak your name again, for but only in my heart.
Boy: and if we have but one kiss and then I leave, would you not want another?
Girl: I will forever be wanting of you but I shall not place such burdens upon you and your heart again, for just one kiss. Do you love me, sweet boy?
Boy: Forever into eternity and past the otherside, over the high walls and beyond the sun. Now let me kiss you.
As they kiss, the moon clouds send a violent storm shivering over the house and a violent rage drags the girl spiralling into her crimson tower.
Days, suns, and many moons pass to the beat of the deathangel's drum.
The boy banished and caged
outside the tower.
His tears mold a river of bitter embraces around its walls.
On a harsh winter's eve
light jumps, cackles
sits on the boy's shoulder to whisper in his ear.
'Your love is dead. Forever waiting for your hand, forever tormented by her broken heart, she spoke your name three times.
For she knew to do so would break your curse.'
'My curse?'
'For she to speak your name three times..you are free. But she is now dead. The freedom of your curse was to take her own life.'
and so the winds do crawl back to the angel hour...
'His shadow has left the dirt forever now.'
'Can his soul be saved atleast?'
'Before he casts his last breath? It is too late for that now.'
'His last breath?'
'It is only the sighs of his shadow that we no longer see.His curse was lifted. HIs loss was too much for him to bear.'
'But now her death is in vain. He has not honoured her love by losing himself, has he not?
'It was not for him to choose. The angel of death had marked them long ago.'
'What was the point then? What purpose did their love serve? Did their lives serve?'
'Why, to give of course.'
