starry flying knives
jagged palette, green and teal
divas from the colour wheel
emerge from the blind darkness of the sky
shadows on the hills
bamboo forest, bamboo kills
wounded Wind, exquisite skills
and blood lies on the snowy linen land

try to understand
this, a flight of bold beauty
exotic choreography
impossible, unreal as real can be
as the pebble makes
its lonely flight
perhaps perhaps tonight

house of flying knives
triple-crossing daggers blaze
swirling, curling, deadly ways
reflecting from the spectrum, China's hues
turquoises and blues
sweeping fields of amber grain
uniform men writhe in pain
truth and love both dying to touch hands

try to understand
that circumstance with just one man
ruins all your loyal plans
yet cannot set you free
you knew to try
you did not know how
then it's too late now

arrows, sharpened, whoosh through
the ghost-white forest dew
when all you had to do was ride
from the house of flying knives
you took your life as lovers sometimes do
and as the winter closed, Mei
this world of yours, so painterly and beautiful closed too

and now you lie there dead
your blood-soaked men in blood-soaked clothes
friends your love turned into foes
lie crushed and broken on the thudding snow

noone ever knows
the nature of the end journey
how you honoured your integrity
hoping it would set you free
it happened
it is happening still
perhaps it always will