In graceful dance ov ever, as fountains have towered above me
The days ov celebration and that ov the foul lake
Fathers ov the knell...
...Burn up the sun

And pluck me from my ripeness
As passion dies
As love itself has failed
And unto the earth we thrive
Ov acorns that gather and cradle to kindest ov ears
Even they are judged to a winter's tide...
...Judged by sorrow days

Through windows ov sunken eyes
As time leads our summers on
Nothing but idle tales...
...And flowers yet to be fair

Make the berries glutton with awe
Borrowed tears like a troubled ocean
Thorns ov Earth's delight
Gathered like spreading fields for a fallow year
Deflower for love is a fever...
...And I swear sometimes...
...I even pity beauty itself
Written by Satyr
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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