The First Cut Is The Deepest

The road to the sleeping sun
Is the one she walks today
Strolling on with lilting grace
To whatever may lie in wait

She whistles nonchalantly
Unsullied by any fear
And lifts her voice to sing
The first cut is the deepest

My plan was most romantic
To find the resting moon
But not disturb her rest
This meeting must be fated

Fateful woven tapestries
Made of our futures threads
Have made a thing of beauty
For here now we both stand

This, that awaited moment
Which I craved with hunger
Fates master plan it seems
Rested on a nails sharp point

A slight hiss of escaping air
A slowly sagging tyre
Was somehow all it took
And now she stands before

Like someone heroine of lore
To help me in my time of need
Humming all the while, that jolly jape
The first cut is the deepest

That must be some mighty ache
Nestled deep inside her heart
To have that pain inscribed so deep
I'm here now and I'll write over that

To repay her knightly favour
I'll offer myself to drive her
In any way she pleases
And show myself along the road

As we cross a lofty bridge
That clouds must fear to cross
She pauses in her song
To ask the sickeningly sweet question

'Can we stop for pictures?'
'Sure sweet lady, I only aim to please'
I smile to see the camera
Soon to see new heights

Her cloying song now starts anew
My snarl unbidden, turns around to face her
Finding only a reflection
Sharply glinting off her blade

And as her knife sinks in
Right through my belly button
I marvel at her pearly whites
Perfect but for a fleck of red

Her gaze is locked in mine
As she slowly tilts her head
While using her blades serrations
To show me what lives inside

Her chiming laughter's tinkle
Roaring like a rapid
But somehow over it all
My ears can clearly hear
The voice of that siren sing
'The first cut is the deepest'