From the dust of the ground
from the rib of a rueful clown
born was a tale of a poetical male
a princess and half the kingdom.
But time passed by
still living in a fantasy
a quixotic dreamer blind to see
the holy grail of reality.
Two arms and a kiss
the triangle of genesis
for a glorious night
in the Eden of light
cut your leash
be more than your creator's pastiche.
From the wood of the pine
from the ink of the storyline
born was a ploy of a mischievous boy
pretending to be handsome and charming.
But time passed by
still stuck in a puppet role
no blessing of the breath of life
no cosmic touch of a loving soul.
Two arms...
You don't have to tilt
at the windmills of your guilt
don't be a marionette
don't settle for the acts of the script
promise at Juliet's crypt
one day to become a real don
from an ugly duckling to a swan.