What an early hour, like a flower blooming
High up in a tower, the music I play is booming
Leaf her alone, she is bushed
Beautiful celestial bodies as far as I can see
The shallow water is rising, now it is up to my knee
Up to my neck, soon it will be
Water or life, water and life
The sharper the knife the shorter my life
No more life to give, all to the knife
A beautiful and thrilling (tragic) poem we are creating
What is it saying? Secret and slithering, like a snake it is striking
Thunderclouds thrash about, the electricity in the air, afraid of lightning?
Will it ever leave? Like moths upon my sleeve
It eats away, the shirt slowly starts to decay
She will always leave, for she can never stay
Just one more day, the boy starts to pray
A fading beauty, she denies
Into the night tears fill his eyes, then he cries
For a lost love, or a love that never was?
One that he seeks, he wishes to keep
She’s as quick as air, a divine smile, and radiant hair
Since she is the wind, maybe he can never hold her
He wants her, every day growing bolder
The frigid air is getting colder
A light touch arrives on his shoulder
The leaves fall off the trees
He wipes off the tears, looks up, and sees
A sight he must analyze carefully
Should he be joyous or should he be gloomy?
My, this empty house sure is roomy
Would you mind if I took a step inside? He says
To which she replies “I don’t have anything to add”
He used to be sad, but now he is glad
He soars through the sky, like a kite in the air
He finds his bliss inside her care
But be aware, that girl has more to her than she looks
The boy, steps back, saving pages in his book from being torn
You can’t stay for long she says, it is an oath she has sworn
So he stays for a while, maybe a summer or two
Her company is what protects him from being blue
Blue as the sea, mighty is he
Fragile and timid, made of glass
He wields a silver fist and a heart of brass
Is an axe swinging maiden really his best bet?
He is sure, he is set, her lace around his neck
Out of air, he is gasping, he’s infinitesimal, just a speck
And she is the moon, brilliant and beaming
Pulling and pushing the waves, and he is dreaming
To the moon, the boy is serenading
