if the earth was a willow
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and you were one too
|
-would earth be weeping
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so gentle and so true?
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if I was the garden
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whereas you could grow
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-would you hand me your branches
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and grant me your love?
|
|
in between the lines of your story-flowing through
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the pages of a book so well prepared
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the words leave more than ashes from your pencil
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when it speaks of tiny stories
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that happened through these years
|
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I swear that your present reality
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-disillusioned obscurity?
|
-will gently wipe away the tears
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of wasted seeds
|
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how can we go through this
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-with wounded wings before we learned how to fly
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how can i control desires
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-when desire burns on a chilly autumn Night?
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I will try and make you imagine;
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the aura where they stand
|
is filled with little secrets
|
-as written in the sand
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Naked as a child at birth
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a question in disguise
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an oasis in a lonely desert
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where lonely unknown lands lie
|
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from here and into (infinity)
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-humble and timeless philosophy
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-you gently wept away the tears
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of wasted seeds
|
|
all the days that have left me
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and the species I have seen
|
ahead days will follow
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-it was only a dream
|
though my garden is growing
|
under skies out of blue,
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and it changes each season
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both in colours and in truth
|
|
you should know that a willow
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-a weeping bed's pillow-
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...
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until all days are through
|
|
rain that fall on your branches,
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Yearning for a source to feed it's primal need
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can maKe your beauty blossom from within
|
with flowers blowing in the wind
|
-and in seasons to follow....
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|
-----------------
|
Weeping Willow
|
| In the Woods |