Poetry

She glances through a lock of hair,
but do not stare,
at this wandering grace,
For the planets are forever moved,
by such an angelic face.

Neigh not the face,
that fills with tears and blood,
that sways with the winds
and predicts the armageddon floods.

Neigh not the face,
that screams in the dark,
and corresses the mirror with sin,
that prays to the lord:
"oh lord,oh lord, where have you been?"

Neigh not the face,
that loved neither sun nor moon,
and claimed that the sweet hummingbird
was too out of tune!

Neigh, that is not the face that I speakth' you.

My sweetest dear,
my whitest dove,
for the face I see of you,
is of the face from the above.

And 'though your veil,
moves softly throughout my golden lair;
I care, I care, I care,
I care!
for you, my sweet blossom
that hath yet to bloom,
I care for you.

And 'though your veil,
teases my every dream that is yet to be,
I want you to know
that although you are blind,
you can always feel me.

And 'though your veil,
marks the sorrow of your soul,
I am the one to lift it,
sweet isis,
O' sweet isis!
 
So lift I shall
and show you the world
through the eyes 
inside the face ,
of the one I speakth not yet 
the one that I have been saving from you,
to keep you within bounds of earthly grace!

So that no mountain may seem
too benelovant to lean on,
in the aid of such a mighty fall, 

I do not want you to cry anymore!

As like boulders of olives, do your tears
fall onto my iridescent, omnipresent skin!

And like arrows, do your words shoot
when you call to me:
"oh lord! where have you been?"
"where are you my lord? I can not see!
Please, please, please,
please my lord, come and save me!" 

In light I return and darkness I stay no more,
Here I am my queen,
saving you from your fall.

For if you fall, the world shall too
and the rivers will turn to blood,
rather than skies of blue
and the fish will float
and feel life no more
so set sail on lifes wind
and prepare for the child you are to yet bore.