From tender years you took me for granted
|
But still I deign to wander through your lungs
|
While you were sleeping soundly in your bed,
|
(Your drapes were silver wings, your shutters flung)
|
|
I drew the poison from the summer's sting,
|
And eased the fire out of your fevered skin.
|
I moved in you and stirred your soul to sing;
|
And if you'd let me I would move again.
|
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I've danced 'tween sunlit strands of lover's hair;
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Helped form the final words before your death.
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I've pitied you and plied your sails with air;
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Gave blessing when you rose upon my breath.
|
|
And after all of this I am amazed,
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That I am cursed far more than I am praised.
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|
-----------------
|
Silver Wings
|
| Thrice |
