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Online: 0 members, 13 guests
submitted 06 April 2012 @ 10:41
The Willow Queen
Written by Charir Ir Tamira
(5 rating, 1 ratings)
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When the winds whisper amongst the rains,
The willow tree secretly weeps it's tears.
And when the Queen sleeps amongst it's branches,
All will feel lost and lonely, in a state of numbness,
But who are we to wake her, to poke at her heart?
Out to the sea, up into the heavens, where life began.
The pillars start to crumble, and she cannot save us all.
Why does she not fall, Why does she get back up?
Because she is who she is,
She is the wind that caresses,
She is the tissue that wipes away,
But who will be there for her in the end?
When the winter fades away and the spring comes to play,
The willow tree will bare it's leaves, and tell us a tale.
One ever so gracious and loving, just as she was, and is,
She will sing to us, and comfort us, but where is she?
In the willow she sleeps, for she cannot be our pillar.
When the trees die out, and the grass grows brown,
She will be the one whom has become so numb, so stoned.
Where she fades away to willow tree out in the grove.
Because she is who she is,
She is the wind that caresses,
She is the tissue that wipes away,
But who will be there for her in the end?
The willow tree secretly weeps it's tears.
And when the Queen sleeps amongst it's branches,
All will feel lost and lonely, in a state of numbness,
But who are we to wake her, to poke at her heart?
Out to the sea, up into the heavens, where life began.
The pillars start to crumble, and she cannot save us all.
Why does she not fall, Why does she get back up?
Because she is who she is,
She is the wind that caresses,
She is the tissue that wipes away,
But who will be there for her in the end?
When the winter fades away and the spring comes to play,
The willow tree will bare it's leaves, and tell us a tale.
One ever so gracious and loving, just as she was, and is,
She will sing to us, and comfort us, but where is she?
In the willow she sleeps, for she cannot be our pillar.
When the trees die out, and the grass grows brown,
She will be the one whom has become so numb, so stoned.
Where she fades away to willow tree out in the grove.
Because she is who she is,
She is the wind that caresses,
She is the tissue that wipes away,
But who will be there for her in the end?
Other Compositions by this member:
• The Whispering
31 January 2012 @ 05:57
Member Compositions Average Rating:
(4.5 rating)
• The Whispering
31 January 2012 @ 05:57
Member Compositions Average Rating:
(4.5 rating)
[ composition listing | post comment | view/offer feedback (1) | rate this compositions ]