Mockingbird, your twisted song
Of love, and dance, and mirth
Tinge my scarlet heart with white
And give my soul rebirth
Rest my mind with naive dreams
Give me once a cotton bed
Tell me of my unlit means
And rob me of my dread.
Once your song has finished fast
Leave me on my own.
Give me hope of death at last.
And so my fate be sewn.
Aug 11, 2025
Aug 11, 2025 at 11:43 PM UTC
Mockingbird, your twisted song
Of love, and dance, and mirth
Tinge my scarlet heart with white
And give my soul rebirth
Rest my mind with naive dreams
Give me once a cotton bed
Tell me of my unlit means
And rob me of my dread.
Once your song has finished fast
Leave me on my own.
Give me hope of death at last.
And so my fate be sewn.
After writing single poetic lines of nonsense for a while, I pieced this poem together. Its title was given after the tone reminded me of a witch's incantation.