Oh Morpheus, Morpheus lull me to sleep
That I may dream myself anew
I long to sail on an Olive ship
Heading for that sacred place
Where the ocean turns to stars.

Cursed with a mischievous handkerchief
My personal Voldemort
This heart beats with such bitter anguish
The price of exclusivity, my Odette,
You’re the apple of this one eyed sap.

Those blood red petals staring down
Reveal betrayal on the battlefield of love
Fronds pouring from my eye
Weave a destiny like Indra’s net
A cacophony of reflections unveiled.

Just one drop of your white ambrosia
Is all that’s required to cross the rainbow
And reach the crystal castle far beyond
But like a bruised reed once crushed
Your fruit will no longer ripen.

Wearing your wings on my clipped feet
The white crane takes flight
Lifting me to that holy city in the west
Where the sun hovers above the wine dark sea
To remembrances of a love sublime.

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