From the bosom she blossomed, a maiden
wove from the finest threads of silk
and sinewed stars.
Lace beneath her chin
with blotted lips of red
beaded from the tulips breast
skin fair
pale as the cryptic moonlight.
While pedals plucked
"He loves me not..."
She dusted across the town
And at last the crowns of the men
and of the women
were laid down
Through pools of ash and dirtied snow
she wandered sifting through the stones
gleams of light and tarnished jewels
to find the threads that made her pure
with spirits bursting from the flame
Oh quietly, she softly sang
“I taste thy delicate melodies
Oh sweet songs of the earth.
I hear the birds in the dwindling trees
Singing songs of mankind
and mortality.
From the growth of each verse
Bleeds the roots of the trees
It echo’s the dusk
And charcoals the leaves
Oh sweet, ooh sweet mortality
Reminding,
Reminding me
Of the ages gone by, and those yet to be
Sifting, sifting,
through God’s grainy flesh
To love every stone."
"Oh sweet, ooh sweet mortality
Reminding,
Reminding me
Of the ages gone by, and those yet to be
The songs of mankind
Sung in the perishing trees
The songs of mankind
and mortality.”