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Literature Text
With rosen lips,
I call to thee.
To meet beneath,
the Elder tree.
Take my hand,
and guide me yonder.
Onto me,
may you grow fonder,
with the love of ages past.
I hope this love,
will be the last.
Fore I love he,
as I wish he loved me.
I call to thee.
To meet beneath,
the Elder tree.
Take my hand,
and guide me yonder.
Onto me,
may you grow fonder,
with the love of ages past.
I hope this love,
will be the last.
Fore I love he,
as I wish he loved me.
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This is somewhat of a chant, more of a poem. Powerful in either form.
© 2007 - 2024 Toxicintensity
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