Dark Falsettos

Sing now unto this my weary soul: that of these days which are born remiss.

Should they ever so softly go in the stealth of night come now this serpent kiss?

Therefore and thusly see as Cinderella dreams the dream of this a star filled night.

For it is unto these lands of gentle hope; carried is she hence on chariots light.

Yea but the peril of a frothy darkness rises forth to negate this, a most simple dream.

For of this she came undone on her journeys twisted path, betwixt the falling mountain and the ever ascending sea.

Now alone and bitter weeps she under a bloody moon; ravaged by dark falsettos voiced in singular from this weary soul of mine.

J. Allen Wilson © 11-2007