Castles Of The Mind

Kings and Princes, all down the line

Were searching for a poet, but not for mine

He, he was safe, though far behind

Sleeping, peaceful in Castles of the Mind.

And when the rough winds from forests will blow

My love he will weather them, though he’ll never know

Alone there he waits, noble and kind

Alone in white Castles of the Mind.

All the Lord’s chariots and all the Lord’s fine

Might break on the walls, and flames burn higher

I will not tremble with the rest of mankind

My love, he is safe in Castles of the Mind.

But though he is secure, these stone walls are cold

The towers are high, these gateways are old

His keep is all ruined, and his deed is unsigned

What kind of home is a Castle of the Mind?

So I with my flowers cannot enter the keep

I sit in the barbican, sit there and weep

These high doors have bared him from the one he would find

These high doors that guard his Castles of the Mind.

He bids me to build up my own redoubt

But the stone is heavy, I cannot quarry it out

I tried for his sake but I am not thus inclined

Mine are the gardens and Flowers of the Mind.

I am no poet, and I am no soldier

I am no artist, and I am no sculptor

I am but a poor girl, simple, unrefined

Perhaps too poor for great Castles of the Mind.

These spires are soaring, these buttresses fly

But war they beget, and many men die

Alone in their glory, they make us blind

It is time to tear down these Castles of the Mind.

This one was inexplicably written from a female perspective. Don't ask, it just turned out that way. I got Jenni to put some chords behind it, so hopefully one day it'll turn into a song one day.