A BALEFUL SONG

Once upon a time when it still rained,
There lived a man; the tides waxed and waned.
Crimson tides- right or wrong?
Soulful eyes and a baleful song.

But the seas dried up and icebergs loomed
Dark red flowers no longer bloomed.
The flowers bled their crimson red
Pale and wrinkled, lost and dead.
But it rained; it rained lust,
The man smiled in death for the sordid past.
People repulsed and emotions scorned,
Laughed till they cried; only one mourned.
Not out of love but loathing deep
He understood it to be paradoxical grief.

Oh, no!
Oh, no!
Oh, yes!