To she that leaves tonight
Little fighter, warrior and hero, conqueror of hearts and thrower of flaming arrows, where is the fight in you? They called you to rise to the occasion, but why did you not show? The only chance you had was a fighting chance, but you chose to instead sink like a log. Argh child, why did they cultivate the lamb among the wolves? Why did they grow you, tiny plant among the weeds? You were a fool, a fool for love but it did not return the favour. You gave your all, but you fed a bottomless abyss that took but never had enough, and never returned. You gave it meat and it spewed out the bones. You gave it an apple and it handed back the core. If they had told you, you would have known. If they had cared to teach you, then you would have learnt, but there you are, broken and defiled, chewed and spat by the temple of freedom you sought. Why did you not look before you got to leap? You made them great and holy when you placed them upon your altar. You baptised all of them in the waters of the great Mississippi, why not in the murk of the ghetto sewers? Oh how dead your house looks; when all the flowers fall and decay. How sick you look, when all your flesh peels off and bones jut out? Where is your beauty, now that you lie on the ground, abused and desecrated? Where is your pride now that you have been trampled and stepped upon? You crumbled when he held you close and broke apart when he held you tight. You are a forlorn lady, alone in the big world, stranded in a big sea. Where is your salvation, fish out of water? Where is your respite, lion in a hailstorm? Oh lady, they have raped you, and ripped you of your pride and dignity, oh love, they have uncovered you to be glared at by the cheering population. Look at the sky, naked and stripped of her clouds for all those with a glare to see and cheer. Where is the fear of the night? Where is the glory of the sun? Hold on till late, lest you go insane. Hold on a little longer. A little patience never broke anyone. If you have to sink, then go down with pride. Atone for the mistakes you made. Apologize to yourself for letting go of hope and promise. Look up and mourn the stars, for they shall not rise or live in the morning. Look up and mourn the sun, for I can see a thick cloud, ripe and ready pulling in from the south. Mourn your freedom, love, for I can hear the clang of chains coming from the north. Mourn your virginity, the pride that fills you from top to bottom, for I can see the reaper with his weaker basket, from the east, panting and hungry. Tell off the whirlwind, and tell off the storm, till you finally are ready for the taking. The end has come, and today, love claims another of its own. Today I stand and watch you drown, and I kick myself, wishing that I had saved you first.
Little fighter, warrior and hero, conqueror of hearts and thrower of flaming arrows, where is the fight in you? They called you to rise to the occasion, but why did you not show? The only chance you had was a fighting chance, but you chose to instead sink like a log. Argh child, why did they cultivate the lamb among the wolves? Why did they grow you, tiny plant among the weeds? You were a fool, a fool for love but it did not return the favour. You gave your all, but you fed a bottomless abyss that took but never had enough, and never returned. You gave it meat and it spewed out the bones. You gave it an apple and it handed back the core. If they had told you, you would have known. If they had cared to teach you, then you would have learnt, but there you are, broken and defiled, chewed and spat by the temple of freedom you sought. Why did you not look before you got to leap? You made them great and holy when you placed them upon your altar. You baptised all of them in the waters of the great Mississippi, why not in the murk of the ghetto sewers? Oh how dead your house looks; when all the flowers fall and decay. How sick you look, when all your flesh peels off and bones jut out? Where is your beauty, now that you lie on the ground, abused and desecrated? Where is your pride now that you have been trampled and stepped upon? You crumbled when he held you close and broke apart when he held you tight. You are a forlorn lady, alone in the big world, stranded in a big sea. Where is your salvation, fish out of water? Where is your respite, lion in a hailstorm? Oh lady, they have raped you, and ripped you of your pride and dignity, oh love, they have uncovered you to be glared at by the cheering population. Look at the sky, naked and stripped of her clouds for all those with a glare to see and cheer. Where is the fear of the night? Where is the glory of the sun? Hold on till late, lest you go insane. Hold on a little longer. A little patience never broke anyone. If you have to sink, then go down with pride. Atone for the mistakes you made. Apologize to yourself for letting go of hope and promise. Look up and mourn the stars, for they shall not rise or live in the morning. Look up and mourn the sun, for I can see a thick cloud, ripe and ready pulling in from the south. Mourn your freedom, love, for I can hear the clang of chains coming from the north. Mourn your virginity, the pride that fills you from top to bottom, for I can see the reaper with his weaker basket, from the east, panting and hungry. Tell off the whirlwind, and tell off the storm, till you finally are ready for the taking. The end has come, and today, love claims another of its own. Today I stand and watch you drown, and I kick myself, wishing that I had saved you first.
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