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If I were a thirteen-year-old superhero...

...or rather, if I happened to be writing one so often that I started thinking like one...

Well, this is what happens. I'm going to turn it into a song.

THE LOVELY SEASON
This used to be the Lovely Season
When all the dancers earned their wings
And in the evening, you could see them
going spinning in the sky.

But then, the Sudden Wind came whirling;
Tore all the petals from their eyes
And now the streets are deeply littered
With elder innocence gone dry.

Her eyes are coloured like the stormbreak
If storms could come from underneath
And when she's watching you,
you know that something's coming down,
going deep.

When she was younger, she was smaller:
She didn't know from Destiny.
And now she's broken, quite wholly
In pieces fit for dignity.

Now see them reaching their thin-bone hands
Gone brown where brighter used to be -
With no one listening,
They pound their rhythms to the ground.

There's times where dimmed go bright un-ending
From over roof and under hill
And then it's still the Lovely Season
Though all the lovelies let go still.

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
catsclaws
Sep. 16th, 2002 03:20 pm (UTC)
Damn, Gina!
Verynice. Beautiful imagery.
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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Chandri MacLeod
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