Epithalamium

Where a monk rested in pursuit of his wisdom,
Where a king tested the fruit of his kingdom
She writes line after line of undesigned gifts
Giving the way a hearth would give.
'Neath English trees and her webs unspun
Takes a paintbrush to the midnight sun.

She used to be a tree inside an orphan's garden
Wedded to a cactus where they hung the stone curtains
Until she died, was buried among the pages
Gave life to a spark that shone for all the ages.
'Neath English trees and her webs unspun
Took a paintbrush to the midnight sun.

With the businessman's charlatan lies,
With the false prophet's hollow cries,
With the politician's crooked prize
With the mercenary's sheepskin disguise,
May her name made of mercury and chimes
Hang a single light upon this sky.

Truth and reason in her nameless string
She spoke the memories of some forgotten king
As she fed her conscience to the frozen few
With the pauper's words I didn't know I knew
She's the song of a poet, theories of a scholar's mind
The moon the thieves left behind.

My voice used to drink in quiet jealousy
From her cup filled with a glass-stained sea
Placed in a capsule made of clemency
Love's felony brought the world to her knees.
She's the song of a poet, theories of a scholar's mind
The moon the thieves left behind.

With the businessman's charlatan lies,
With the false prophet's hollow cries,
With the politician's crooked prize
With the mercenary's sheepskin disguise,
May her name made of mercury and chimes
Hang a single light upon this sky.

While the ghosts of pride and mercury
Echo with the hummingbirds of industry
And neon screaming through the parchment roads
Her name came tracing through my silent bones.
May her life be true, her worries find defeat
May she find her fortuned peace.

In the books written of a traveling salesman
The words of a gypsy and her giftshop talisman
She was designed behind the sun, the meridian moon
She knows in her youth, what she must do
May her life be true, her worries find defeat
May she find her fortuned peace.

With the businessman's charlatan lies,
With the false prophet's hollow cries,
With the politician's crooked prize
With the mercenary's sheepskin disguise,
May her name made of mercury and chimes
Hang a single light upon this sky.

Dressed in moonlight threads, she unwound the ticking verse
In the fading mirage of a time encircled curse
But who'd chain her gentleness, turn her from the truth?
And refuse the sky as she speaks of her youth?
She weaves her steadiness in silent threads
Whispers a time she hasn't found yet.

Where lampposts and drainpipes talk with empty roads
With her in her armor, her proof like smoke
A breath to quiet a sky bathed in reverie
She places the changing lights upon a lonesome bead.
She weaves her steadiness in silent threads
Whispers a time she hasn't found yet.

She's needed here and far away
Where a silent eye remains
When mission bells ring through a rainswept mind
May she never fear the truth
May a thousand droplets scatter on her steelframe design
May her name forever ring like the chimes