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Sabaoth
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The Fountain of Blood
My blood in waves seems
sometimes to be spouting as though in rhythmic sobs
a fountain swooned.
I hear its long, low, rushing sound till, doubting, i feel myself all over
for the wound.
Across the town, as in the lists of battle, it flows, transforming paving stones to isles, slaking the thirst of creatures,
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com men, and cattle, and colouring all nature red for miles.
Sometimes I've sought relief
in precious wines to lull in me the fear that undermines, but found they sharpened
every sense the more.
I've also sought forgetfulness in lust, but love's a bed of needles, and they thrust to give more drink to each rapacious whore
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