Spellbinder

daylight beckons

the tap of the crystal wave
upon

the phantom of the night

days drip as honey would

from the tips of the tongues

of those that should

know better

carrying 

the ancient ones across the shore

towards 

what we are destined for

do you know the sound of the soul

when it catches its breath

snaring its truth

from the spellbinders net

forever

at the seams

she sews these memories into her sticky voile

creates melody

from crimes

from the grimy depths

her protruding limbs

the hot wax you wore

on melted tin

grey compass bears us home

within its palm is fruit

fruit that bore us the sun

of rememberence

remember this

cruel dreamer

remember that once

we sang the glory of life

with fire in our souls

the truth be told

the truth be told