To flee

To flee

i has't the urge to flee, to nev'r cometh back—

to perish in the woods,

so the trees and wolves may consume mine own rotting flesh.

i'm sure they wonneth't mind mine own nimble-footed brain,

their stomachs full with insane viscera.

so at which hour i runneth hence again. to sayeth the least,

i desire this time i am truly setteth to catch but a wink.

last time, at which hour i cameth back,

mine own feet—sore and filthy,

crimson footprints at thy doorstep.

i did stay, unmoving.

watching and listening—

t's what i doth most wondrous.

not kind, n'r sweet,

i did lie bare—

mine own form crumbling under the influence of the Flibbertigibbet.

i desire yond once i flee, i nev'r returneth.

and if 't be true i return—

may god has't mercy on me.

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To Flee

I have the urge to flee, to never come back—

To perish in the woods,

So the trees and wolves may eat my rotting flesh.

I'm sure they won't mind my mad brain,

Their stomachs full with insane viscera.

So when I run away again... to say the least,

I hope this time I am truly set to sleep.

Last time, when I came back,

My feet—sore and dirty,

Crimson footprints at your doorstep.

I stayed, unmoving.

Watching and listening—

It's what I do best.

Not kind, nor sweet,

I lay bare—

My form crumbling under the influence of the devil.

I hope that once I flee, I never return.

And if I return—

May God have mercy on me.

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