Dreams in a Little Birds Heart

More about Dreams in a Little Birds Heart

Baptized buy a song bird, slotted back to terra firma, paused. Sketch up another one, loves sword drawn, slay the snakes, jester palm his face, chalking that heretics spit to that savage mans blind rage.

Lost in my minds eye I found path divinely lit, columns beaming from the sky. Now I am playing a pyrite king in my future queens wild dreams. Snakes pine for a song of sun, warmth ungiven with a pluck of another's tongue.

Queen Crimson stands in the last place, when you look for love without faith. Grab a bag of treats because were in the long maze. Dipped, gilded, management is easy for sick to please when you have the keys to the secret worlds everyone begs please.

Put to bed with a worried head, my ancestors unease wrestle with the future me, ask again just don't beg and plead. I give the last rites on a ghost that I could never please. One more spin on that turnstile. Skip a rock into the wishing well. An angel plucked, fetched, and fell. Time falls out of my pockets, seconds roll down my arm. A poets loss isn't your harm.

Paper drawn pistols loaded, pockets full of pewtered sunshine. My gold finally found my path laid oh so bare, clarity splashes down on the transmuter's crucible like drop hop from a golden hare.

Loading up my chisel, damn dulled to the culler, resolved and found. A pawns path forked, unfamiliar, the last stand. Delivery man just tracked down that package, would have been too bad a dreamer almost lost out on their eternal wonderland.

For Ever More,
Civitasvox