Standing Stones
She whistles through thistles whilst under the bleeding sun,
and when I called her name, my fingertips went numb.
From the chalk plateau, her damning hail moans,
dragging a salty tempest over the alkaline grassland.
Amid standing stones, a birthstone-blue star
looks at me suspiciously, as I came to hold the hand
and when I called her name, my fingertips went numb.
From the chalk plateau, her damning hail moans,
dragging a salty tempest over the alkaline grassland.
Amid standing stones, a birthstone-blue star
looks at me suspiciously, as I came to hold the hand
of a captor haunting me; she dances on top a barrow,
I fall down to my knees and sit solus in solace.
Last light leaves the monolith, the ground begins to chill,
her hushing susurrations will keep us hand in hand
and we will dance forever under the swollen sky,
until the stars are dying and the wind has said goodbye.
I fall down to my knees and sit solus in solace.
Last light leaves the monolith, the ground begins to chill,
her hushing susurrations will keep us hand in hand
and we will dance forever under the swollen sky,
until the stars are dying and the wind has said goodbye.
