Said the hopeless cat to the moon,
"Take
me to the grave of the night
for
I shall not live."
It's
unfathomable hunt
for
the naked truth
steering
forth
a
cutting-edge phase
of
a more hollow chapter
...in
that which is said, is often forgotten...
along
the pallid beams of the moon, fresh tears drop
with
a consoling song to immerse upon
she
laid it's worn out self...
for
what had been said, she'd never forgotten
it
is locked...hidden within
waiting
to be set forth
to
the unjustifiable unknown
for
the vast hollow to swallow it...
In
the vortex of life,
after
the winter,
there
comes the spring
it
sprang with hope;
glistening
in utter lust...
she
breathed in analytical tranquility...
restored
and coated,
settled
in grace ,
tossed
yet surviving;
the
fetish Cat sleeps in fur.
In
the split second
where FEAR
F
a
l
l
s
she
pursues the journey
to
find the answer
staking
her being
on
the line
A
warrior
clothed
in jubilance
mouthing
in radiance
the
Destiny
is
now near-at-hand
she
gingerly speaks
its
purr, shudders the moon
in
lush...
take
me to the grave of the night
play
the canticle
take
a chance
I'll
take the final dance.
