Hope Betide (Chasing Stars Remix)

 Featured art by Maren Klemp

Listen to Hope Betide by Richard Charles Stevens (Chasing Stars Remix)

Listen to Chasing Stars by Fury Weekend

She was drawn to the dawn
‘Neath the yawn of the moon
And La Luna ador’d
Such ado

She was drawn to the dawn
In the stillness far withdrawn
From the yawn of morning scorned by night’s decree
That forewarned by the moon—shorn of lustre and subdued
of applause thereon encouragement released

Bleak was the horizon
That she couldn’t keep her eyes on
For the bright light seemed denied of shining through
Should the sun incline to rise
Awhile the child inside her died
Then she would no assistance find
With only wistfulness behind her
Woe betide her for each skyline prized anew
Woe betide her for each skyline prized anew

The heavens were blue
Dressed in perilous gloom
Felt better the devil she knew
The angels were fell’d
to their ruin compelled by the swell of their lips
As they kissed Hell to tell that withheld of excel
That of dogma misspelled
Of dishonour’s mistruth
At the foot of the well
Where the worms turned—writhing
in ripening soil
amidst spill of enlivening lore

She blocked the spores of lips uncurled
Of flocked corrupt elite
Unlocked the pantry door—entrusted
seize of rusted key
The trusted heirloom in her keep
Foredoomed unjustly by the sheep
Was shorn of lustre—yet seemed ever keen to gleam anew
This thrust of will no spill assumed
For every teardrop sweetly mused
upon the heal of scars advanced to after care of wound
This thrust of will no spill assumed
For every teardrop sweetly mused
upon the heal of scars advanced to after care of wound

She was drawn to the dawn
‘Neath the yawn of the moon
And La Luna ador’d
Such ado
With the sun to come undone
of applause thereon encouragement resumed
She felt inclined to rise
Awhile the child inside reprised—reposed
disposed to throes of listlessness behind her
Hope betide her for each skyline prized anew
Hope betide her for each skyline prized anew

The heavens were blue
Dressed in perilous gloom
Felt better the devil she knew
Felt better the devil she knew
Felt better the devil she knew
The angels were fell’d
to their ruin compelled by the swell of their lips
As they kissed Hell to tell that withheld of excel
That of dogma misspelled
Of dishonour’s mistruth
At the foot of the well
Where the worms turned—writhing
in ripening soil
amidst spill of enlivening lore

She was drawn to the dawn
‘Neath the yawn of the moon
And La Luna ador’d
Such ado

She was drawn to the dawn
‘Neath the yawn of the moon
And La Luna ador’d
Such ado
With the sun to come undone
of applause thereon encouragement resumed
She felt inclined to rise
Awhile the child inside reprised—reposed
disposed to throes of listlessness behind her
She felt inclined to rise
Awhile the child inside reprised—reposed
disposed to throes of listlessness behind her
Hope betide her for each skyline prized anew
Hope betide her for each skyline prized anew
Hope betide her for each skyline prized anew
Hope betide her for each skyline prized anew

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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