He dreamt it again
Falling out of an eternal window
His favorite dream
Maybe he'll die in his sleep
For the meantime
He keeps waking up
In his bed alone
The only bed he's ever known
Little does he know
His love died three thousand years ago
Some Babylonian princess
Entombed in a vague myth
She guided me in a dream
One night
To his bedroom prison
And after we placed him on a small boat
It drifted swiftly with precision
She lit the entire world on fire
Thousands of slaves carrying torches
Trudging through the muck and mire
I sleep on a bed of ancient flames
But if I quench them
He will remain
Alone
No comments:
Post a Comment