She trembles in her poetic words
Like a daisy in the night,
And she stumbles upon them
And rejects her own plight
Oh what a mighty star we have begun
The old and the young; I tremble for her
What naked night is this
Without a plight?
Such trickery harms the living stars
And the southern moon dances no more
She is the age of the living sex that breathes
Therefore she is only a casualty--
Oh living stars do breathe on their own
I can only hope for eternity
Oh southern moon, my darling
Will you wake upon your sleep?
Will you smile at me
While I\'m far away?
Will you dance with me
In the night?
For you are so pretty when you\'re quiet
For you are no longer howling for lost words
Truth and death bestow upon you
The greatest gifts--
Surrender to the living, for the living suits you;
And your plight is a wonderful thing,
Do you believe in you?
Do you tell yourself of these poetic words
That move you?
Oh still is the night--
The birds are a living sight
Dressed in your momentum
That was once poetic to me.
And dare I say, what lovely lies you speak
Across the ocean near and far
Across the skies that weep,
Can you imagine all your lies in a play?
How dramatic it will be
The plots, the schemes, the truth--
I see you in the ocean light
Dancing with your hair,
But only in a dream
For dreams are only spoken for
When they\'re dead.