Envy lies naked on a rose -- Blindly, on bed; Tonight, -- we bind to shed Ourselves from purpose And dread That sough us from hearing, -- Fearing... The silent touch of Moire.
It lies darkly on thy posture Of many a figure And requiem for my mockingbird, -- Those of many a love of my mockingbird, (The Reaper And my keeper Of my very own Requiem for a mockingbird) Alone, all alone We bind to shed...
Alas! Now Death Comes as Nepenthe for my mockingbird, (The only love I've come to unravel the love Of my mockingbird) Now, breathing from her now, the breath Of my heart leapt Out from a mockingbird And slept As my eyes bind dead...
This is a requeim for a mockingbird, -- The Reaper And my keeper Of my very own Requiem for a mockingbird, Alone, all alone We bind to shed Ourselves from purpose and dread That sough us from hearing, -- Fearing... The silent touch of Moire...