enûma eliš (when on high)

sorrow is not forever
whenever hope gains a foothold
give me your hand, dear
and leave these burial fields behind

we rest our old ways on the funeral pyre
and hatch new wings within its fire
fragile and strong are we

the lustre in our eyes
we’re spinning dreams in our sleep
look to my eyes, dear
we’ll move the world in our wake

we rest our old ways on the funeral pyre
and hatch new wings within its fire
fragile and strong are we

let’s shrug off our draconian veils
let these settle in the dust at their feet
lay your brow to mine, dear
in a nest full of golden eggshells

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

13 thoughts on “enûma eliš (when on high)

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