Incantations longing for a spell…
Waiting for her to show her face
But somewhere deep down inside
She still hides feelings lost half safe.
Leafs are separating, lotus
Petals are falling from there sepals
As she now runs far, far too deeply ahead.
Oh incantations they’re drowning in decibels.
Oh her heads in a monastery of pain
For a hurt little infidel dame
Who hollers now to go home alone, but
It’s really not her confessional choice…
Oh she just wants her knight in armour
To tie up alongside his steed and read
Her his reams of poetry,
And set her heart on fire.
Oh incantations can it be
It’s just her heart alone in the dark
Drumming out its ache to share his breath
Weightlessly, endlessly, hopelessly dreaming…
Leafs aren’t now separating, lotus
Petals falling from there sepals
As she now runs far, far too ahead.
Oh incantations are drowning in decibels.
In his head she’s his Sleeping Beauty.
Oh incantations reams of poetry.
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
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