Encor Ô Poëte

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There was a time, where the days seemed brighter
When the smiles were not cheated
And summers much longer
There was a time, where the black shades of the nights
Did not paint the blue sky of your dreamer flights
I was sailing above the ocean sound
His salty notes were sprinkling my wounds
The trip was long, but feelings were strong
When I touched the Walpole ground
In the hollow of the whirlwind
An empty shell rested there
He whispered to me something kind
“Know that nobody will sell you here”
So, I stayed for years on this forsaken stone
Forgetting the screams of the clocks
And spaces too small to plant my throne
But the weather has turned to grey
Giving a way to the storm
Ripping the island from its base
And wrecking the walls of my home
I guess it’s supposed to be like this
Let’s germinate the pleasure and the bliss
And the candle of the peace
To finally tear them into pieces
The singing bells of the church woke me up, echoing across town
Ache of memories lift the veil on a new day, cover up everything around
When the morning velocity slap my average man’s face
When I can’t drag loath limbs out of my bed
When time passes without taking the time to blow
And when I can’t put on the paper the graceful thoughts

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