The heart is a bitter bulb
Bearing brackish, barbed blossoms
Kneaded, knotted roots and gnarled shoots
The heart is a boorish beast
Blunt, budging, beating
Beating away time
Filling my faltering blood with fear
Fear; oh, foul fields of fear
That stretch trillions of treacherous miles
Ending abruptly at the colossal cliffs of yes and no
Here I stand
Facing this field
Shoots and stalks of bitter bulbs
Brimming with beasts, bellowing over the pounding of me
I could have crossed my foot
Clawing towards time as it pounded past
Making a break for the shade of certainty
But I, I chose the river
The long and languorous serpent
Slithering away toward the endless Black Sea
A dilapidated boat upon this wistful river
I float beside the shores of fear
And in the water's gentle rocking, my harried heart grows quiet
The banks edge closer
And the trees rise in tightly, in the dimming twilight
In this pulsing silence, I hear your voice, my dear
I hear your voice, my dear
Your voice whispers through the leeds, like a summer breeze
And my heart, though fettered in the tangled fields of fear
Now whispers back
A hushed harmony of lilting leaves, and rippling reeds
Please, my dear
Though I long alone your fearsome fringes
Send me some light
A Moon, a guide
That I may steal myself from the clumsy cockle's gashing
Obscured along the riverside
If by chance I reach the sea
And drift not off course or capsize
By cruel decree of an indifferent wind
If my foolhardy voyage brings me nigh
The two towering cliffs with faith beside
Thy violent sea of tranquil cove
Which song the wind shall sing of love
That dove borne yes or no
Of shattered boats, and requiems
Oh, please my dear
If you see me there
Tossing, turning, down below
Give me your hand, or at least cast an eye
That I might see just one last time, your merciful gaze
Before I'm dashed to rubble, and swept away
