Snowy White by Connor D'Arcy
I’m lost in a faerie tale
I’ve bitten too far into the poisoned apple
It took a finger prick on the spindle
To realise my sleeping beauty before me so pale
Yet, so little to make me smile
And as soppy as I may sound, this is due:
Know one knows me as well as you do
And my world falls down without you
And then, out of the blue
You are always there to help me through
I feel you with every word
And every heat beat skipped
Falling hard
So desperately hard
And, for a moment, everything becomes blindingly hazed
Yet, it saddens me to see you’re trapped
Like the Lady of Shalott
I do so hope you realise before the mirror’s cracked
Before you sing your last song and be placed
Snowy white upon on the boat; to drift
So beautify graceful, for the last time, down the river to Camelot
I know you feel the same
Though, you would first think to him
He is no Tennyson
And he would not let you blossom
As you made three paces through the room
But, if you can truly say you’re happy
Then I am too, happy
And we can sit together and gaze onto the sea
Cast our feelings aside to be only friendly
And talk, as we always do, about the most weirdest things frankly
And it’s true, we don’t get what we deserve
But with every fibre
And don’t you dare doubt, not ever:
I will always be here
My love, without the stormy weather
I’ve bitten too far into the poisoned apple
It took a finger prick on the spindle
To realise my sleeping beauty before me so pale
Yet, so little to make me smile
And as soppy as I may sound, this is due:
Know one knows me as well as you do
And my world falls down without you
And then, out of the blue
You are always there to help me through
I feel you with every word
And every heat beat skipped
Falling hard
So desperately hard
And, for a moment, everything becomes blindingly hazed
Yet, it saddens me to see you’re trapped
Like the Lady of Shalott
I do so hope you realise before the mirror’s cracked
Before you sing your last song and be placed
Snowy white upon on the boat; to drift
So beautify graceful, for the last time, down the river to Camelot
I know you feel the same
Though, you would first think to him
He is no Tennyson
And he would not let you blossom
As you made three paces through the room
But, if you can truly say you’re happy
Then I am too, happy
And we can sit together and gaze onto the sea
Cast our feelings aside to be only friendly
And talk, as we always do, about the most weirdest things frankly
And it’s true, we don’t get what we deserve
But with every fibre
And don’t you dare doubt, not ever:
I will always be here
My love, without the stormy weather
Connor D'Arcy
Engineer-to-be, Sailor, Wessex boy, Anglo-Irish, Biker, Musician, Writer, Honorary Drama Student, Barista, Rat owner and avid lover of redheads.
Often known as the bearded nun. Only Engineering student living with an indeterminable number Drama students.
Often known as the bearded nun. Only Engineering student living with an indeterminable number Drama students.