Haha, I just realized that I signed my fandom name on that last entry. It's fixed already, but, uh, whoops.
***
I'd been toying with the idea of writing a song about this strange fog of fear-born apathy enveloping me, but it wasn't until I visited the Titanic Museum during my trip to Branson that I got the idea to use the Titanic sinking as a vague metaphor for that feeling. I'm...not entirely sure I succeeded in merging the personal with the historical and getting something that was close to the intention I wanted. And I'm not especially happy with or proud of the construction of these lyrics (which, as always, are subject to change as I plot out melodies and think of marginally better replacements). But I managed to get a good chorus melody (...I think), so as long as I can turn this into an enjoyable song to perform, I think I'm good to go. I'm reminded of something I read about Sylvia Plath in the introduction to a compilation of her poetry that I have - that "her attitude to her verse was artisan-like: if she couldn't get a table out of the material, she was quite happy to get a chair, or even a toy." Personally, I think this little wannabe song-table is more like a dollhouse chair at this point, but hey, it's better than nothing.
-Reileen
boys, play well into the night
***
Sink
by Reileen van Kaile
push off to an uncertain journey
to a distant, misty land
I stand on the edge of something greater
far more massive than I am
nothing much but everything
sees me through the days
with gentle lullabies of apathy
closing my empty gaze
no heed of the warning from above
no need of even my own pitiful love
too late to escape this grave that I ride
too soon to realize the white star of hope has died
I am lost to this life
I am grieving for the dying lights
of this broken, sinking ship
fading from this fight
and drowning in the shadows of my fears
cradled in the arms
of chilling, boundless depths
floating in the tear
that I wish I could've wept
for who knew such a tiny scratch
would rip the armor from my bones
I know, oh, now, I know
I am never coming home
too late to escape this grave that I ride
too soon to realize the white star of hope has died
I am lost to this life
I am grieving for the dying lights
of this broken, sinking ship
fading from this fight
and drowning in the shadows of my fears
too late to escape this gave that I ride
too soon to realize the white star of hope has died
too late to reverse the sands of time
too soon to believe in the hope of salvation mine
I will never know the pain
of life's brilliant holy flame
in this broken, sunken ship
frozen in the depths
ever drowning in the shadows of my fears
I'd been toying with the idea of writing a song about this strange fog of fear-born apathy enveloping me, but it wasn't until I visited the Titanic Museum during my trip to Branson that I got the idea to use the Titanic sinking as a vague metaphor for that feeling. I'm...not entirely sure I succeeded in merging the personal with the historical and getting something that was close to the intention I wanted. And I'm not especially happy with or proud of the construction of these lyrics (which, as always, are subject to change as I plot out melodies and think of marginally better replacements). But I managed to get a good chorus melody (...I think), so as long as I can turn this into an enjoyable song to perform, I think I'm good to go. I'm reminded of something I read about Sylvia Plath in the introduction to a compilation of her poetry that I have - that "her attitude to her verse was artisan-like: if she couldn't get a table out of the material, she was quite happy to get a chair, or even a toy." Personally, I think this little wannabe song-table is more like a dollhouse chair at this point, but hey, it's better than nothing.
-Reileen
boys, play well into the night