Creep In Tha Garden


Their eyes are dark with unknown deeps, old woes
And New Despair
Their shackled spirits feel the pain
That breaks their bodies bare
The savage masters of their Days
mock their passive pain
How they should know their scorn
indifferent to the Stain

For in their heart of hearts,
they see the glow of illuminating fires
They are whores of a mystic rite
In their lingerie shows of anti-Godly pyres
No incident of shame and toil
They take with idle breath
For they do not know the Cradle of Life
And all they know is Death.
They are the Slave Women

I live in a beautiful Garden
All joyous with fountains and flowers
I wreck of penance and pardon
at ease thru the exquisite hours
My blossoms of lilies and roses
Lock, clock, and unload
all lull me with delicate fancies
as shy as the dawn and the Dew

And the Hunter is gloaming
How he lures me to the Wind and the Roaming
Free, free beneath the starry Skies
Tis the hedge of Roses
woven with wonderful Pearls
I am encased by its beautiful closes
We know what it is to be Old.

Out of the Jungle he came, he came
Man of the Lion’s breed
His heart was pure and his eyes gleamed
as he strum his ragged guitar,
Spring was sweet and keen in his blood
His eyes were the eyes of Man
And the Jungle knew how his love Rang
For his heart was the heart of the Hunter
Singing, he sought his mate
the Wife for the life and all his mood
Formed by their Fate

The sky is more blue than the eyes of a Lovely
A riot of roses of the Heart
Ah, come to me, run to me, fill me with Joy
Dear, dear, love, love, LOVE!
The air is passion of perfume and Song
The little moon swings up above
I cannot wait any longer
I’ve waited so long…..

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