As life would be, thrown in my direction
With all the smallest jingles from bells against it,
And the scenario builds itself
Upon the rottenness of my withering shoulders,
For my life is a crusade,
A great race
Across this treasured desert,
Upon this harlot’s cross,
Where she’d die for the nighttime,
Where she’d die for the bedtime,
Where she’ll kiss, through a cloud above my brow.
I am grieving
A newest moment,
Where death has crawled itself, to my feet,
To my mind, to my eyes,
As tears are all there’s left to eat.
Little girl, with your blinding light,
You were a great pebble to lift,
Across oceans, where tears are engraved
Like marble in the deepest glades,
Like sapphire in the whitest skulls.
What is worth all the tears
That I have to consume?
What is worth all the fears
That I have to embrace?
A puny face with treasured gaze,
Calls to me, for the moment,
To see what truly stings
In a heart made of sulfur and made tragedy.
You were where love was truest
In both Heaven and Hell, a fire made fullest.