St. Innocent
Haunted by St. Innocent
Twist my ear, I'll not repent
I feel no guilt, nor shame
That idol curiosity feeds my flame
To burn in me the questions
Of a thousand untaught lessons
What's this name, St Innocent
A man?, a place for flesh now spent?
It's far away, I'm sure
As things most unfamiliar seem to be
Still, those things closest to us
We often fail to see
If you could be St Innocent
I'd ask in whose name you were sent
Untuned strings, thrush and whistle
Bar of steel, and flower of thistle
Eyes of grey, beware those sheep
Lest they warm you while you sleep
If she might be St. Innocent
Then like her name, the same, it went
Lost to a wolf, if so, by choice
Fire of stone, and dark of voice
If they have eyes, yet use them not
Then know no fear, you'll not be caught
But if I be St. Innocent
Innocence should not torment
Yet tormented's how I feel tonight
Raw unrest, unkept, unright
St. Innocent, I'll walk no more
Up to your closely guarded door
© Harley
