A Philosopher Stoned

About a Girl Pt II: A Sword That Could Not Kill

Once upon a lucid dream,
I approached you with a wrathful blade.
With all the strength I could muster,
I prepared to strike you down.
This chapter should have come to a close already,
but what a fool was I to wield a sword that could not kill.
That crescent moon smile captured my naive eyes again.
Etched into your amicable mask. 
It was insincere, yet still beautiful.
Enough to bring me to my knees.
Oddly though, we laughed and walked away.
Hand clutching scarlet hand.
Watching the cherry blossoms drift in the wind.
Again and yet again.
How many times will I let you deceive me before the end?

About a Girl Pt I: Night Sky, Nightingale

Nebulous strands of night sky flow ever so elegantly.
An appropriate backdrop for her crescent moon smile.
This beautiful visage captured the eyes of the sea instantly.
I might stay here for a while.

The nightingale begins to sing a song in euphoria.
(He hasn’t felt this way for a long time now.)

The red drum enamored with you beats frantically.
The yellow monarchs flutter calmly in the pits below.
This night, forever immortalized, begins to fade slowly.
The hardest part is watching it go.

The nightingale will always sing this song in euphoria.
(or is it in lamentation now?)