What to everyone  has known
In sound is the boundaries
All plaintive a key above
An octave
Becomes
The cry like
Powerless dying
Unknown
Lives
Under a tree alone
A certain cry
A calling wail
That carries upon the
Heavy air
Through forests
All over crests along the
Hips and vales
Where on a perfect dawn
She calls he cries to
Mercies majesty
And no one comes
As echoes die alone
In worthless tomes
That make no heroes
And nothing
Songs