She drank the
silvery moonlight And never was the same He ate of the house of
bitterness All to lose was she They tasted the fruit
of Eden Of Paradise they lost They sculpted
instruments of futile Whispering to a scream Others breathed of
furies More modest tyrants of
heartlight Others touched those
doves Before scarlet stained
wings She swallowed some of
the starlight In flight a dove does
cry He grasped at the
ribbons Before falling on the
shreads And the children still
do cry
