Song of the Mad

And bore beyond the sigils bell,
Forgotten dreams of songs now lost-
And silent strings ring not to tell,
Of aristocratic sieges ardent costs.

Come hither silent ringing sound,
And Kiss the heated wisps of night-
For these strings that ring resound,
As a sharded splinter of purest light.

Come siege my soul with silver strings,
And thus tie the naked song to thee-
For my heart, my lustful sledging sings,
Beating now the borne soul thus free.

I am free and thus I sing my song,
And let my tethered soul strings ring-
For from this burning passions long,
The seizing war of love will sing.

For in this last burning memory,
I stand with the bell and string-
And keep the record locked and free,
So that of thee I may still sing.

Night come and claim me, take me,
Bring me to the calming wild winds-
Take my worn hand and hail the key,
Toasting the song that never ends.