Anathema
Dear cursed li’l frogs
Ye hold the evening in your mouths
For heaven’ll smile at your ugliness –
The mystery of your beauty unbound,
You’ll kiss the dawn of freedom.
Don’t fret li’l ones
O’er plums and tomatoes
For there are things sweeter –
The melody of your voice unsung,
You’ll touch the jars of grace.
Wait li’l ones, for your raincoat moment;
With timeless motion
You’ll find your true love –
Who’ll take away the curse
And you’ll turn into handsome princes.
Hour 14