When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Friday, September 26, 2003 Insanity
In this affair of lust and greed,
Insanity sprouts from a tiny seed.
On anger and pain, it does feed,
And like a vermin, it does breed.
"Mea culpa", I hereby plead,
For non compos mentis, is a sin indeed.
I admit it. I think I'm mad. Cracked, crazy, daft, demented, deranged, lunatic, unbalanced, take your pick. Je suis folle. And I'm blithely cultivating this hysteria of lucid intervals and happy pauses. There's always this bright light in my head, and not to forget, that light-headed feeling one gets. Such is the result of "a breath of wind from the wings of madness" brushing against one's cheeks.
Two names dominate my mind when I think of angels and knights: Dav and Zhiyang. Blake's "wanton boys to flies" they are, and very much so. Boys with deliciously squeezable cheeks! Think of cherubims with their cheruby (and you wonder why they're called cherubim), sanguine countenance, that puffed-up appearance in glossy pictures. Don't you simply have this incredible urge to lay your hands on that angelic face?? That blissful application of pressure with fingertips on those soft, tender tissue gives almost a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yum.
Hey wait. Aren't I supposed to be discussing angels and knights, instead of cherubims and boys. Forgive me, I do get carried away sometimes.
For the two boys, erm, knights:
From whence came forth a shining knight,
Splendour searing, blinds thy sight.
Glorious angel, burning bright,
Join the dark side, where there's light. 9:22 AM
