My White Wings
In the dark hour of the witches, with bright stars twinkling like riches,
A door was opened to a realm unseen, both untouched and unexplained.
I danced within, this world so new, forgetting that dreadful issue
As if a dream could continue, continue this vision bloodstained
Tis alone a life I bared, that lasts tonight this nightmare ordained
What a thought my mind entertained.
Oh, the just thought of being free, from this blackened world finally.
The ivory drapes stood open with hands beckoning to my escape,
Cordially I took their offer; bitterly I danced their partner
Until the moment I climbed the sill, and breathed in the moonlit landscape,
Did their woven lace pass over me with intent to suffocate?
How rude of a date to misbehave.
Then the dismal, dull, agonized cry of the waken nightingale,
Cut me – Killed me with its song so regretfully sincere
So that I wished, upon each note that he sang, yes I sat wishing,
Praying for, ravenous for, those feathered wings he held so dear,
I yearned for mine to one day be white, but first life must volunteer,
To forever more disappear.
I laughed; I smiled, over minutes squandered, my fiery heart waited no longer,
As if impatient the drapes curled around my feet, inviting me so kindly to leap
I hushed their eagerness and called to the night, “The chains have broken!”
And with that news the night replied, “It is time, it is time, go to sleep go to sleep!”
Finally I’d be with mother, with father, oh no time to weep no time to weep!
It’s about time we all had our wings.
A door was opened to a realm unseen, both untouched and unexplained.
I danced within, this world so new, forgetting that dreadful issue
As if a dream could continue, continue this vision bloodstained
Tis alone a life I bared, that lasts tonight this nightmare ordained
What a thought my mind entertained.
Oh, the just thought of being free, from this blackened world finally.
The ivory drapes stood open with hands beckoning to my escape,
Cordially I took their offer; bitterly I danced their partner
Until the moment I climbed the sill, and breathed in the moonlit landscape,
Did their woven lace pass over me with intent to suffocate?
How rude of a date to misbehave.
Then the dismal, dull, agonized cry of the waken nightingale,
Cut me – Killed me with its song so regretfully sincere
So that I wished, upon each note that he sang, yes I sat wishing,
Praying for, ravenous for, those feathered wings he held so dear,
I yearned for mine to one day be white, but first life must volunteer,
To forever more disappear.
I laughed; I smiled, over minutes squandered, my fiery heart waited no longer,
As if impatient the drapes curled around my feet, inviting me so kindly to leap
I hushed their eagerness and called to the night, “The chains have broken!”
And with that news the night replied, “It is time, it is time, go to sleep go to sleep!”
Finally I’d be with mother, with father, oh no time to weep no time to weep!
It’s about time we all had our wings.