Swordsman

A threesome upon a threesome, two ladies, intoxicating flowers in their hair
The wilder the night, the more the lines are blurred till three becomes a bind
They turn their rusty hatchets against his bleeding heart, let stab, let juices flow

Grapes in between white cloths, soaked their dresses into chalices transform

And who would’ve dared to ask a maid to give up on her audacious knight
Who would’ve dared to tell her a hasty other pierced his armour through
The swordsman tossed and turned on his blade, fighting monsters all night
While sweet roses on his bedsheets kept the miscreation of his mind alive

The light woke dusty, a cloud refused to pour himself into the draughty skies
And under these yellow lights he arose and swore off all the spirits of the night
His vows streamed up the creek along his poppy red shoes, along and not into the soil
Too late had been his epiphany; a promise of war, a message of despair was out

Like a fool, hang on the ledge, the corner of your bed
Zero in on the trail, residual scent in the dusk
Dark hours crept eight whole red miles ashore
Do not follow, don’t wait to see what was undone

Spilled liquids, trashed goblets and a sleeping moon
Close your ears to all that’s been crashing below
Let the sad man in black take that which he was owed
Let Death lead you closer to a path towards sun