October 17, 2009

The Tree

There's a tree stands alone in a meadow
Where the down and the downtrodden swing
There's a fairies circle intertwined in it's root knots
Where the creatures of night come to sing

At the base of the tree you can find her
On the nights when the old moon is high
There she waits patiently for her lover
To slowly grow old and to die

Dressed in a gown made of teardrops and heartache
Sorrow etched into her wedding veil
She hopes that some day he may find her
So the two of them can at last set sail

Far away from the land of the living
Along the Styx to the realm of the dead
Away from the mourning of loved ones
Where their corpses can at last rest their heads

It is said that she'll wait there forever
For her lover had long ago died
It's been well over a century
Since her bride groom had stood by her side

So she'll wait by the tree in the meadow
Patiently for the last dying gasp
Of a lover whose heart had moved forward
Long ago leaving her in the past

1 comment:

OJ said...

I like this one, Culty! Very nice imagery...