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Major Parkinson
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Black River
Howling from the heathers in the glooming mire
To clam me on slender pass
The billow turned the birches to redundant snacks
Unavowed, we stood like icicles
In the black river
Yesterday, she was pulled out from the river
Wearing a silver bracelet and a bucket of stones around her pretty neck
Holding an empty canvas to a mirror
I pictured myself alongside of the girl on the bridge just the morning of the fall
When she was staring into the hollow abyss, luminous slipping into the bog
The black river…
Silent cafter caters by the rivulets, hovering the High-land glass
Waiting in the horror by the silhouettes
Everyone you know shall pass never to feel comfort in the arms of a stranger
Howling from the heathers in the glooming mire
To clam me on slender pass
The billow turned the birches to redundant snacks
Unavowed, we stood like icicles
The black river
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The black river
Stop! My little child, you won't get further than this
I see you smile, under the frozen abyss
We reconcile, we're past-dimential and vile
The both of us
Let's get together and dance into the void until it stares into our souls
So Hush, my little child! Come join the purgatory trip
Through your denial
Among the carpenter bees, and honey pies
We see the home that you left, you were a child
I was your daddy back then, so spend a tender when your mourning slip into your dreams
Scarlet staturines, tuffy puddles, bada-bits and baseball figurines
Forever and ever, bury 'em in the cold
THE BLACK RIVER!
THE BLACK RIVER!
THE BLACK RIVER!
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