Letters

Dandelions mist, of feathers I will blow. A drop of honey will change it’s color, under the wings of Lady Magdalen’s crow.
A movement in echo, your ripple promises of broken trails, where is my channel, a desert of dying river sails.
Branches of olives, you keep on growing, yesterday’s song, clouds today’s mourning.
Are you thinking twice? My broken heart's window is open, letting in a the flies, tomorrow’s heartache, a deceiving serpent.
You draw curtains of potent demise, has your wise one left? All covered in lies.
You are stuck, and no one is home. Where is my door? Stepped upon your palm and throne.
Unveiling lips, you better think twice. Sometimes you walk, sink if he tries.
Has your marble glass broken, no other face you can find? Has your golden arrow fallen, pierced through your mind?
Break the vine, friend is no one to time. Do you choose to be kind, to the person who plays with your mind?
Will you step out of line and tell mother Earth that God has chosen a time?
We will meet in the east, feast and dine. Puppets will mirror the strings and signs, will no one realize we are all mimes?
He will stop smiling when we are all laughing, ceilings are gone, you hear no one humming.
Will you die my friend, your troubled says mind at end? Do you know your date oh friend, slipping chance into his hands?
Will your tongue taste fate, or will you whisper “God, checkmate. “