She was always waiting awake
looking at her childhood's fireflies
bewitched by the liar moon
She was living her fairy tale
again and again all alone
she was dreaming of her good-hearted prince
galloping with him on his white horse
She was claiming what she was
always worthy to receive
as the priestess of selfless love
as the goddess of pleasure and affection
Her conquest was quixotic since
Her prince was disappointed and terrified
And his black horse had thrown him down
before long galloping free - away from
the loss which its rider exuded
She was waiting vigilant though
Hoping her fairy tale would be repeated
Burnt by lust for his wretched flesh
watching her innocence's fireflies...
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια :
Δημοσίευση σχολίου