It was the late summer of Lady Di mourning
and in my own underpass, I died thrice
Tina slit my heart’s throat
palpitating dying breaths inside our wreckage
and bringing her latest lover to the funeral
Too far, too fast, too fierce
who unbuckled the belt to halt train’s speed?
Thousand midnight candles
were always going to burn the house down
And the third death was my soul, unspoken,
silent spectres who seemed unable to speak;
drifting carcass of stifled feelings
across sunlit grave mists
Powerfully penned, Ghosteen. Another excellent write my friend. What’s crazy is while I was reading this ink I was listening to “Candle In The Wind” by Sir Elton John. I mean what are the odds? I know Bernie Taupin wrote the lyrics about Marilyn Monroe. But it was rededicated to Lady Di. Amazing read as always. Appreciate you.
Damian