The Poet and the Pendulum and the Poet

A palindrome of storytelling in song

3/16/20245 min read

"Niaga dna niaga
I wonk I lliw eid enola
Ees ot hguone gnol
Gnol hguone ot raeh eht sdnuos fo snug
Gnitnuoc dna setunim eerht evah ylno I won
Rof degnol syawla I htaed a em evig"

The end

The songwriter's dead
The blade fell upon him
Taking him to the white lands
Of empathica
Of innocence
Empathica
Innocence

The dreamer and the wine
Poet without a rhyme
A widowed writer torn apart by chains of Hell
One last perfect verse
Is still the same old song
Oh Christ, how I hate what I have become
Take me home

Get away, run away, fly away
Lead me astray to dreamer's hideaway
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world
Forgive me; I have but two faces
One for the world, One for God
Save me
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world

My home was there and then, those meadows of heaven
Adventure-filled days
One with every smiling face
Please, no more words
Thoughts from a severed head
No more praise
Tell me once my heart goes right
Take me home

Get away, run away, fly away
Lead me astray to dreamer's hideaway
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world
Forgive me; I have but two faces
One for the world, And one for God
Save me
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world,
a whore for the cold world,
a whore for the cold world

Sparkle my scenery
With Turquoise waterfall
With beauty underneath
The ever free
Tuck me in beneath the blue
Beneath the Pain
Beneath the rain
Goodnight kiss for a child in time
Swaying blade my lullaby

On the shore we sat and hoped
Under the same pale moon
Whose guiding light chose you
Chose you all

"I'm afraid, I'm so afraid
Being raped, again and again, and again
I know I will die alone
But loved
You live long enough to hear the sounds of guns
Long enough to find yourself screaming every night
Live long enough to see your friends betray you
For years I've been strapped unto this altar
Now I only have three minutes and counting
I just wish the tide would catch me first and give me
A death I always longed for."

2nd robber to the right of Christ
Cut in half - infanticide
The world will rejoice today
As the crows feast on the rotting poet

Everyone must bury their own
No pack to bury the heart of stone
Now he's home in hell, serves him well
Slain by the bell, tolling for his farewell

Next morning dawned upon his altar
Remains of the dark passion play
Performed by his friends without shame
Spitting on his grave as they came

"Today, in the year of our Lord, 2005
Tuomas was called from the cares of the world
He stopped crying at the end of each beautiful day
The music he wrote had too long been without silence
He was found naked and dead
With a smile in his face, a pen and 1000 pages of erased text."

Save me

Be still, my son
You're home
Oh when did you become so cold?
The blade will keep on descending
All you need is to feel my love
Search for beauty, find your shore
Try to save them all, bleed no more
You have such oceans within
In the end, I will always love you

The Beginning

The beginning

I will always love you,
In the end,
You have such oceans within,
Try to save them all, bleed no more,
Search for beauty, find your shore.

All you need is to feel my love,
The blade will keep on descending,
Oh when did you become so cold?
You're home,
Be still, my son.

"With a smile in his face, a pen and 1000 pages of erased text.
He was found naked and dead,
The music he wrote had too long been without silence,
He stopped crying at the end of each beautiful day,
Tuomas was called from the cares of the world,
Today, in the year of our Lord 2007"

A whore for the cold world,
a whore for the cold world,
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world,
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more

Save me !

I have but two faces; One for the world and one for God
Forgive me
I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world,
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more
Lead me astray to dreamer's hideaway
Get away, run away, fly away

Spitting on his grave as they came
Performed by his friends without shame
Remains of the dark passion play
Next morning dawned upon his altar

Slain by the bell, tolling for his farewell,
Now he's home in hell, serves him well,
No pack to bury the heart a worm,
Everyone must bury their own

As the crows feast on the rotting poet
The world will rejoice today
Cut in half - infanticide
Second robber to the right of Christ

"I just wish the tide would catch me first and give me a death I always longed for.
Now I only have 3 minutes and counting.
For eleven years I've been strapped unto this altar.

You live long enough to see your friends betray you,
long enough to find yourself screaming every night,
long enough to hear the sound of guns.

It would make you cum, wouldn't it?
desecrate the rest,
Dissect my heart and,
Would you like to rape my rotting carcass?"

Chose you all
Whose guiding light chose you
Under the same pale moon
On the shore we sat and hoped
Sparkle my scenery

Swaying blade my lullaby
Goodnight kiss for a child in time
Beneath the rain
Beneath the pain
Beneath the blue
Tuck me in

The Ever Free
With beauty underneath
With turquoise waterfall
Sparkle my scenery

I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world,
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more,
I have but two faces; One for the world and one for God,

Forgive me.

I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world,
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more,
Lead me astray, to dreamer's hideaway,
Get away, run away, fly away.

Take me home.

Tell me once my heart goes right
No more praise
Thoughts from a severed head
Please, no more words

One with every smiling face,
Adventure-filled days,
These meadows of heaven,
My home was there and then.

I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world,
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more,
I have but two faces; One for the world and one for God,

Forgive me.

I cannot die, I, a whore for the cold world,
I cannot cry cause the shoulder cries more,
Lead me astray, to dreamer's hideaway,
Get away, run away, fly away.

Take me home !

Oh Christ how I hate what I have become,
Is still the same old song,
One last perfect verse.

A widowed writer torn apart by chains of hell,
Poet without a rhyme,
The dreamer and the wine.

Innocence,
Of Innocence Empathica,
Taking him to the white lands Of Empathica,
The blade fell upon him,
The songwriter's dead.

The End

The Poet and the Pendulum and the Poet

Renée Kessen