There was a ghost
Once light and fair
Who danced and writhed
Upon the air
Her every breath
A climax there
Upon the lilywind.

She loved and shone
Throughout her days
And nights the moon
Burned through the haze
And gold and Sage
Found in her gaze
The weight of years refrain.

Words bled from
Her fingertips
And honey-light
Swung 'round her hips
And twilight crawled
Across her lips
In the whisper of a smile.

O' Oleander!
The truth, the death
That no one sings!
The waning star,
The rotting heart
The end she couldn't bring.

For years he watched
Her ceaseless dance
Eternity
Without advance
And she undid him
With a glance
Upon the lilywind.

She took him in
Upon a whimsy,
Though love was frail
And time was flimsy
And drifted on
Her midnight sea
Between the burning stars.

O' Oleander!
This lamentation,
This deathly sting!
Save me from
Her rotting heart,
The end she never sings.

And so their love,
The void's behest,
Became a child
Held to her breast
And peace for him
A lasting rest
Between the body's dance.

But kingdoms fall
Within the shade
Of time's lament
And glory fades,
And so destroyed
His palace made
Within her star-blind heart.

And now love's garden's
Full of weeds
And for her ghost
His heart still bleeds
She stole his breath
And all he needs
Upon the lilywind.



Penned by my hand on the 24th of Severin, in the year 270 MA.