42

YODEL

Mindless bombs blasted in hateful vengeance. Blood was spilled in a spoiled sanctity. In agony, once again we learned that we needed to steer better and clear. We gleaned some tender rays of hope, as we always do; we played the voting game. "I am the victor" - uttered the famous daughter.

Yes, she won. But did we?

In the mean time, the famous widow and her thousand minions are humbled by a rabid RAB. Mary Shelley must have smiled in repose, for she knows what follows ... By then the famous daughter, from the maze of her piquant rivalry, has forgotten all the good things she promised.

In the palace, the famous daughter, lives happily with her three hundred boys. They adorn her golden crown with lapis lazuli; happy faces, the glitter her silky sandal; and the high princess looks at her servile boys and mutters - "it's me ..."

on the other side

rivers die

forests undone

earth perched 

and our little daughter, busy gathering the leaves of her life, sees her hopes wither like a flower in an empty vase

she yodels,

we have seen the bloody blood

we have seen the mournful arrow

we have seen the hateful heart

we have seen the heart of sorrow

for I sing so low and lone

for I kept my passion moan 

I have seen and I have sinned

for all the sins I have gleaned

an yodeling quake of fire I feel

form falsetto to falsetto 

I feel a tremor,

a feel of a chilling kill

no more I sing so soft and lone