Hemlocked Heart

For a brief glance at fate and dry desperate needing,
I'll wring out the magic for a moment of feeling.
The lightning, it cackles, uncharted and brave.
On repeat, I'll listen, until the fantastic's mundane.
When forgotten and lost to time’s endless weaving.
I will flee from the fire, obsession is fleeting.
Once brilliant and shining she'll sink to the depths,
become far from beguiling, a cheap sunken wreck.
Still I'll listen and plea with ancient words of tomorrow,
knowing damn well I'd never find home in this water.
And when all hope is lost and I've eaten the heart out,
I'll sing it back softly, immune to the back count.
So drowning and parched I'll run to the mountains
where heartbeats are gentle, wise, free of grand visions.
For a brief glance at fate and low mountain living,
I'll wring out the magic for a moment of feeling.