aDarkerMind

Through The Eyes Of Mnemosyne\'s Muse

through the eyes of Mnemosyne\'s muse

twelve statues stand as one this Sunday \'morn

each one no more a memory of time.

it is here below the fountain of regret

with my cousins dressed in green askari skin

on vines of dear departed monograms,

one single rock where the black rook stands supreme

this day it seems more ivory

than the paperweight of laborious regime.

I have risen with the mule\'s design of vogue

held captive with a blue mole on my lip

hissing like a cobra in a dark brown overcoat.

it is almost time to sing and dance and scream;

I am all in white

as pale as snow with my hogshead full

of sacramental wine as dry as mud.

now the great flood flows it\'s waters through my veins

water-stained with a shamrock on it\'s skull

it has no heart to navigate 

the red-mustard frills 

that burn my ears a shade I envy most.

all words beyond repair

my lair of cotton 

twinned with the second season of a lung.

my eyes now pink

my diary is full;