The NitchawackOn one dark day,
a vertical line
dis't not move
in buying me time
as I slept in the wake
of an unseen maiden
of the deep dark lake.
As I was rolling in the hay
on that summers morn, I sat
watching the sun and the moon
place water in my hat.
The lady grew and grew,
and still she grew more;
her face all twisted and monstrous,
and her lips bulging unto
not even a sound
or an unseen line
could've shaken or waken
her unsound mind.
Not then did I linger,
nor ne'er shall I linger,
for the darkest lady of the night
had caught my heart
that sunny day, and
now I still sit in fright;
my chest open,
my lungs filling with air
but not breathing.
That lady that day,
as the locals say,
had left me alone -
rotting alone -
and now I ne'er shall play.
Under the fairy grove.A lover's knife in your hand
Blood streaming down my chest
Perfectly innocent, they say you are
And I leave under you own command,
With so many questions left a hung
And so much pain within, I cannot abide
With much more than this that you left me with
I blame you not for which you have stung,
But for the loss of anything that might have been
Had you tried. I might have been delighted,
Or at least less saddened,
If you had tried to
Me from falling
Look at you, so silent.
Perhaps you're scared? Of what, I wonder.
As I have done nothing too brash or bold
Perhaps my sorrows have left you crushed
So in your defence, you crush me more,
And leave me withered and weeping,
Still gasping for the air I never really had,
The way a greedy gentleman treats a whore.
You would claim, I suppose,
That this is not the case at all
And continue to not tell me that the case may be
For it was my affection that was too high, you finally
I sit in my fairy garden
Amongst the shady trees, drinki