Her Ghost in the Fog

The moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait

Soft winds whisper the bidding of trees

As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart

And the mid-nightmare trampling of dreams

But oh, no tears please

Fear and pain may accompany death

But it is desire that shepherds its certainty

As we shall see

She was divinity's creature that kissed in cold mirrors

A queen of snow, far beyond compare

Lips attuned to symmetry sought her everywhere

Dark liquored eyes, an Arabian nightmare

She shone on watercolors of my pond life as pearl

Until those who couldn't have her, cut her free of this world

That fateful eve when the breeze stank of sunset and camphor

Their lanterns chased phantoms and threw

An inquisitive glance, like the shadows they cast

On my love picking rue by the light of the moon

Putting reason to flight or to death is their way

They crept through woods mesmerized

By the taffeta ley of her hips that held sway

Over all they surveyed save a mist on the rise

A deadly blessing to hide her ghost in the fog

They raped and left, five men of God, her ghost in the fog

Dawn discovered her there beneath the cedar's stare

Silk dress torn, her raven hair flown to gown her beauty bared

Was starred with frost, I knew her lost

I wept 'til tears crept back to prayer

She'd sworn me vows in fragrant blood

"Never to part, lest jealous Heaven stole our hearts"

Then this I screamed ,"Come back to me

For I was born in love with thee

So why should fate stand in between?"

And as I drowned her gentle curves

With dreams unsaid and final words

I espied a gleam trodden to earth

The church bell tower key

The village mourned her by goodbye

For she'd been a witch, their men had longed to try

And I broke under Christ seeking guilty signs

My tortured soul on ice

A queen of snow, far beyond compare

Lips attuned to symmetry, sought her everywhere

Trappistine eyes, an Arabian nightmare

She was Ursuline possessed of a milky white skin

My porcelain yin, a graceful Angel of sin

And so for her the breeze stank of sunset and camphor

My lantern chased her phantom and blew

Their chapel ablaze and all locked in to a pain

Best reserved for judgment that their Bible construed

Putting reason to flight or to flame unashamed, I swept from cries

Mesmerized by the taffeta ley of her hips that held sway

Over all those at bay, save a mist on the rise

A final blessing to hide, her ghost in the fog

And I embraced where lovers rot, her ghost in the fog

Her ghost in the fog, her ghost in the fog