Orchard of Stars
Landing the veil of pensive response…
I was singing guilt free with a languid inspiration for a simple little legend called truth.
Echoing the push of a near spirit contained in the sky,
I accepted rebuke and fatal worship.
You wore your mask exceptionally,
With a splendid candor and fruitful willingness to act and make believe.
I planted an orchard of stars through the industry of wit for the good of your goodness.
The devil hast no fury in the sadness of today.
An ocean of salt tears rivers down the crevices of helpless souls, still planted.
The skillful hands could not save…
Pity and remorse altered the course of nothing,
And lovely courtship, could not induce…
I planted an orchard of stars for you,
And so, in your memory, I live.