||[May. 15th, 2004|04:19 pm]
Tell me thy secret, o swift one|
Thou goest fleet of foot here and yon
The night is your daughter, the sky your son
With a slightest effort you are gone.
Lend me a hand, so benefit me
I march ever onward across the sea
Walking on water the powers that be
To thickets and valleys, above every tree.
Feed my intuition, a spark that is new
I'll conquer the world with helping from you
Leveling dynasties, knowing what's true
See the invisible, find every clue.
Where do you come from? How can I write?
Thoughts get the best of me, late in the night
Trip over my feet, still awake at first light
I stumble along, almost there but not quite.
Tell me your secret, o feeble one
My radio's ready, resistance undone
Continue to work till the dawn of the sun
Work till my mortal machine fails to run.
© 2004 Gerald Fitzgerald