L'Impicatto

 

I. 

He finds himself locked out, 

The key is in his pocket, 

But he doesn't want to go home. 

Going there means remembering

All the old moth wings turned to powder, 

He's not ready to forgive anyone yet. 

He stands sulking in a corner of the street, 

Sometimes at work till it's late enough, 

For everyone to sleep soundly. 

So that when he returns, he's still alone. 

II. 

His mouth is closed shut, 

Lips stitched by the evil Queen, 

Who warns him not to tell anyone, 

Of how she whips him with words, 

Pushes him down the swing of worthlessness, 

If he speaks a word, he will be an orphan. 

He is frozen like a broken sculpture, 

That no one can bear to look at. 

His eyes still reveal everything, 

But his hands tied with burning rope, 

Tear into his flesh without a sound. 

There's nothing but despair for him, 

Forgotten like a stone buried underground. 

III. 

Upside down for years on a tree, 

He looks up to see there's still a sky. 

At night, a star descends like God, 

Reminding him that he's still alive. 

'What kind of life is this where 

One can never be free? 

Why couldn't I be a Knight or an Emperor? 

Are there any revelations or courage, 

In this entire mystical game for me?'

The star asks him to flip the other way. 

He does and now he's finally on his feet. 

IV. 

The people stare at the man

Looking down at them from above. 

A beacon of love, a savior of all, 

How much did he have to sacrifice

To end up becoming a God? 

He has been patient for years, 

But now it's finally time to speak up. 

His words fall upon eager ears like rain, 

His mouth has to open in order to reveal. 

He forgets his immovable hands and feet, 

With gentle words, he comes forward, 

He is no Emperor or Knight, 

But the Lord of every heart, 

He's the one who must rise from the dead, 

In order to make the disbelievers believe. 

V. 

Death has been torment and pain, 

The prisoner hands with ties of blood

Taken by the heavenly skies. 

Wings appear, over robes of white, 

As he glides over calmer waters, 

Speaking words of gentle truth. 

He remembers to fill his cup first, 

Then offers it to those who are worthy. 

They ask him how he found this balance, 

'It wasn't easy at all. I had to learn

That I had always been free. 

It is the mind that plays its tricks, 

It is the mind that tries to deceive. 

I don't want to be a God or an angel, 

I just have to learn to be me. '

VI. 

You seek answers, 

But you won't find them, 

In a deck of tarot cards, 

Or a page of old misused words. 

Turn everything

Upside down. 

Each card is the same person, 

Each word the same meaning. 

The answers are in you, 

Not in me as you anticipated, 

They are not in the place, 

Where you always thought 

They were supposed to be. 

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