Lament I (or "Bitter Revelation")

I want a girlfriend, who's cheery and sweet,

A girlfriend who’s friendly to all that she meets.

I want a girlfriend, with sharp wit and spunk,

A girlfriend who’s crazy for me, not some hunk.

I want a girlfriend, who’s buxom and funny,

A girlfriend who’s cute without lots of money.

I’ll have a girlfriend, who follows me ever,

Who’ll tell me stories and jokes that are clever.

I’ll have a girlfriend that likes to do what I do,

Who’ll play as an equal and, hell, win a bit too.

I’ll have a girlfriend with good virtues galore,

Who’ll be sensitive, discreet, kind, and more.

I need a girlfriend, who’ll hold me close,

Will whisper sweet comforts far longer than most.

I need a girlfriend with a welcoming embrace,

To render sympathy, and dry tears from my face.

I need a girlfriend to hold me quite tight,

Who’ll rock back and forth and proclaim “it’s all right”.

I need a girlfriend who’s more friend than girl,

To find one like that I’ll must search the whole world.

Dreamsong III (or "Shicksal")

Moon-song spun a shining path, and starlight lead the way,
Lambent stones led ever down to the lake of fate and dreams.
Standing, searching, on the shore arose a web of what could be.
And reflecting from the lake itself, cascading lights and gleams.

Strange it was to look and see, which ways your life could come to be
To see one’s life set in such stone, arouse a wrenching plea.

For not all paths, the lake did clear, the biting truth it showed,
Was only which would never be, no matter how things go.
So while one was free to travel murky sides with mysteries to find,
The mirror future of the lake itself would never come to know.

I traveled there that blinding night, to peer into that lake,
No interest in those shadow-paths that I was doomed to take.

I stood upon that brilliant shore and cast into the water,
To find you standing next to me, holding hand and hand.
Bitter tears flowed up, for ‘twas not fun for one to realize,
The dream you’re chasing simply cannot be, no matter what you’ve planned.

The saddest truth – one never knows exactly what will come or what will be,
Yet one must leave that shore of dreams to seek their destiny.

Dreamsong II (or "Der Tod der Engelin")

Effulgent light dawned through the night, the eve the angel came.
She was clothed in white and grasped a silver, moonlit chakram in each hand,
She bore a swirling mane of golden hair that framed her wispish crown.
On wings of golden light, she floated on, high above the land.

The gentle soul could not comprehend the carnage that was wrought,
“It is as if the ground itself cried tears of blood”, she thought.

Drifting slow through cold, night air, not a soul was seen.
But what was this! The shadows moved, one soul endured the strife.
As the angel came down from high, the sad, old doctor turned his head.
“I fear you’re too late” he bitterly said. “Too late to save a life.”

“That will not be” the Angel seethed to he, “for one thing this, I know,
That never too late to spare one his fate, or change back fate’s cruel blow.”

She left him then and went alone to the crumbling church nearby.
There she knelt, and knelt and prayed, her freshly resolved anew,
Her inner light left her then, dimming her ethereal glow,
Her golden wings grew ebon-black, at what that Angel tried to do.

For as that Angel knelt and prayed, time ran a backwards course.
No more tears of blood, idly spent, no more lone survivors, bitterly warped, the angel sacrificed herself
____ to give them a second chance that they might craft a land with no remorse.