MAGNUS KING

O fair Lady
Pretty as heaven
colored like coffee
Smiling like the new moon
...

I have long admired in quiet solitude
The crying voice of lightning
Lodged within my inmost being
The shadows of laughter reversed in the fire
...

Death is a serpent and an armed thief of beauty
Many are his victims slain to sleep by his evil claw
Plunder as his motive through lies by charming all
Yet this evil athlete does not stand nor stay pretty
...

I sat down searching for the lost ring of my future
In the mines of the earth, a stone of my presence
The golden lady of youth; my cherished silence
Deep down in the wells of my heart lays her picture
...

O fair Lady
Pretty as heaven
Colored as coffee
Smiling like the new moon
...

The sky has an eye
The walls have ears
The earth has a mouth
And the wind do have feelings
...

The quiet storms
The ancient drums
The heated warmth
Of your arms
...

Kings and servants
But mine is give and take
Pain to pleasure
And pleasures to horror
...

I'm laying here on this restful nest
Thinking. No, flying back into time
My ancestor of admiration on the shores of a peaceful sleep
The one that won't pay my service
...

My pretty little beloved Cuz
My tree of love still blossom because
We both love the beauty of sermon
That lives in Moriah and dwells in Zion
...

Summer is a friend of mankind
Not so is the enemy Winter
The dehydrated pressure in the tsarlike fire
Turbulent voices tired in, with mirage and dryness
...

As darkness and deep sleep fell on me
The truths of my past scans deeply
On me. And the future start
Picturing through my heart
...

The morning went spent with evening
And darkness and deep sleep followed
I find myself freed from the harshness of the midday heat
And storms of unbearable terror
...

These dirty pages of war
Compels our pace
In the midst of grace
From above; so shallow
...

There was once a dream
Which are we
You and me
It walked the rocks
...