into the white

oh the maiden spring time
in how many words has it been spun
over the centuries
by poets here and there
and embellished by a million more verses
about arcadian images of nature
mirroring the emotional landscapes of man

all tears dry away in the sun
all tired eyes and shrinking skins
are blended out, fall into the white
hidden by light that spotlights a merrier scene
- first roots, first blossoms, first bird screams
penetrating the vivid dreams, the slurry state of early morning sleep

ice still glistening on shadowy surfaces
on burning cheeks staring into the bare, bleak deadland
in there, inside her
in there where winters still reign
and cut through the clothes, the skin, the body
that freezes and waits for its shell to crack
and let the sun in
to melt away, to white the within
cast it into oblivion, spotlight the maiden
hidden in the shades of winter
let here bloom, let here unfold

above, beyond the doom
erected and always reflected
in a castle of steel
heavy and solid
and well overfeeding her
with treats wrapped like sweets
irresistable, poisonous,
eating away at her blood,
at her mind, at her heart
and leaving her with the mute birds
that cannot fly

until she shrieks and bites
through the steel, the ice, the eternal winters
she bleeds and reeks of foul old spite
but she can´t die
she can´t die
not now, not yet
the spring has spun her a dress
the first, the last dress to wear
to dance and dissolve in the white light,
the merry fairytales
sung by the sun
of springtime, oh springtime