I seeketh a heart amongst thee,
Saviours of the darkest night,
Seeds of forsaken mothers...
Their bare grace of misery
Is the treat for this, this unfeeling heart
That lives in men’s lifeless chests,
It beats because it morns the fall
Of a love he kept for his sweet wife;
The lone reason for his strife.
By day, we shame them,
Yes, we hate them
And call them harlots!
Yet we live through their silver shadows
And embrace their disgrace with hypocrisy.
Their eyes hypnotise eyes of he that stares
At their iniquity; their only power over strong men.
In streets they wander,
In minds they wonder
Why they are who they are;
Mirrors of life’s essence.
We are to blame...
For we worship each stride they make,
Every curve of their cadaver,
We love like that of our wives.’
Is it because they satisfy our earthly desires,
Smire us with their priced love
And whisk our angst with delight ?
Cry not O’ beautiful one!
I’ll not forsake you,
I’ll hold you till daylight
And they’ll find us as one,
Like honey and milk we shall be,
Your lips as sweet as wine
I’ll kiss them like never before...
O’ bring glee to my lone soul!
Your eyes as warm as wool,
Are the pride of any woman,
In my mind, I’ll love you not
For it is to betray the quintessence
Of my feeling heart...
This is why I seeketh a heart amongst thee.
