Oh Morpheus, Morpheus lull me to sleep That I may dream myself anew I long to sail on an Olive ship Heading for that sacred place Where the ocean turns to stars.
Cursed with a mischievous handkerchief My personal Voldemort This heart beats with such bitter anguish The price of exclusivity, my Odette, You’re the apple of this one eyed sap.
Those blood red petals staring down Reveal betrayal on the battlefield of love Fronds pouring from my eye Weave a destiny like Indra’s net A cacophony of reflections unveiled.
Just one drop of your white ambrosia Is all that’s required to cross the rainbow And reach the crystal castle far beyond But like a bruised reed once crushed Your fruit will no longer ripen.
Wearing your wings on my clipped feet The white crane takes flight Lifting me to that holy city in the west Where the sun hovers above the wine dark sea To remembrances of a love sublime.