Broken Tongues and Laryngitis

Shouldering songs from the birth to the rhyme of emotion, spring silver and burgundy 'spires Slipping your words in a tragedy roll tumbling and tumbling sweet in my mouth Parching the lips from the birth to the hip of elation, crooned gypsy and marble desire Swathing your soul in impertinent shadows release, just release while I sing in the fire We are the makers of melody masks We sing, our words holding hands We won't touch ground 'till the flooding ensues an immense retribution entrance Cradling wounds from the birth to the line of devotion, peppered and whispered in dreams Basking in sun, mirror stolen and young burning and burning the cold from the seams Lending the moon from the birth to the ground repetition, invited and sailing the air We will be crooning our songs short of smiles despite broken tongues and acute laryngitis.