Turn Loose The Swans

Turn Loose The Swans

So little of what we observe, is the girl

Herself. elaborate, scented coiffers. adieu

D'amour. vast is the heirs ballroom. let the

Rich give you presents. heaven pours from

Her throat, as she sings and as she dances.

The fumes of rich swine, honeyglazed and

Dripping, playing in the air. my mouth eager

And wishing. but i return to this

Nightingale. her hair all fiery red. deep it is

And wild. my weakness will be fed. boys

Whipped on the alter of diana, sometimes

Until they died. the cunning wily

Merchant, and his four crippled horses. tales

Told in warlike manner. the storyteller by

The fire . while musing deeply on this sight,

The songster stirred my desire. you are

Sweet and fine to listen to. long tresses

About her neck. yet much is false. this

Mighty evening, i've seen no face. this is

Crushing me. my quill it aches. turn loose

The swans that drew my poets craft. i'll

Dwell in desolate cities. you burned my

Wings. i leave this ode, splendid victorious

Through the carnage. i wanted to touch

Them all. i wanted to touch them all.

Turn Loose The Swans

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