Jerome by Anastasia Forfotă - HTML preview

Mockingbird

If my weeping corpse too grave

sits under the forest lane,

kiss it soft on my behalf,

Promise it to mourn by half,

'Cause from it shall I return

Hollow from my spirit's burn;

Yet from sky I'll fly toward

You, just like a mockingbird,

To kiss the grave that I've been in,

To welcome you into my dream.

And them, who've waited me in trial,

I shall damn into denial.