Walkin on Air
The Enchanted Griffin Folks
Rumblings cascade through the forest so deep,
Fairy wings stir; silent waters effervesce in fear,
widowed mothers tremble, in horror weep;
Why must they die? Why is death so very near?
Pristine glory, its meaning now but drear,
empty vapid dreams of esoteric sleep
akin to sardonic homilies that shear
human courage, exposes dearth so deep.
Penultimate chance before final death to keep
daemons at bay, cynicism to Satan dear
shall not deter me: evil will evil reap:
my Griffin I conjure; foe, my foe fear!
Defender of the realm, hear people, hear!
Your hearts let not in oppression's turbulence steep:
serene certitude display, think not of yesteryear;
no longer need parents in horror weep.
The haunted house whence once wicked ghosts would creep
and clarity obscure, deceivers truth would wear:
false justice to cloak questions with answers cheap.
Why must they die? Why is death so very near?
From virtue's quarry our Griffin kinfolks steer
rawness of grief to memories of joy that seep
into deepest chambers where a ransom tear
glistens as the Griffin's headband sapphire
through the forest so deep.
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The Enchanted Griffin Folks
The Enchanted Griffin Folks
