I tore apart, I tore apart
The red scarf, the dramatic act
And piece-by-piece it arose
Il est charmant, from the sea at Peros

Bare, hair- spare me your lair
I am only an Angel, you surmise
But I- fallen light, young, fair-
Had not yet seen twenty summers rise

Snatched from under the chandelier
I thought of your mask, your lair
My spotty, eternal, paternal pain
Swallowed it, wishing you were here again

Slipping into the painful task
I sang lullabies until your mask
Fell- your face edgy, broken, dead
And I was almost lost upon that bed

Sun rises against the Persian shore
He gave me back my flair
My voice, my very soul
I smuggled from your lair!


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