Demether - Her Last Home
Just like oil on canvass?
Touch of red, mostly black?
Thick are the air and the fog that hide her from you?
Weeps? shadow?
Cries ? sparkle?
"She sleeps, she sleeps?"
Once in time, there she was,
Standing by the willow tree,
Longing for an old feeling, being his?
Now she is like a torn flower,
Alone?
Among the trees, and underneath the leaves,
There is her last home, she lies there all alone?
Letras Demether