Iamodd
Canon Pony Purist
“Bury me not, in the dark forest.”
These cries were heard, from a soul caressed
By a mourning group, of her friends and they;
Were a thinning few, on that solemn day.
“Bury me where, my kin can mourn,
When they’re passing by, on ev’ry morn.”
They heard her plead, not to be freed,
But to be lain, ‘neath apple seeds.
“please lay with me, a tree to grow,
So I can still feed, a family who knows,
That even in death, I gave all I could
Please bury me not, in those darkened woods”
They held her close, and bid farewell
To a friend they’d changed, to an empty shell.
And her last breath, was a broken cry
They killed a friend, who could never die.
“Bury me not, in that dark forest
Where timber wolves wail, and sadness rests”
And when she died, the words were lest
they buried her there, in that lone forest
These cries were heard, from a soul caressed
By a mourning group, of her friends and they;
Were a thinning few, on that solemn day.
“Bury me where, my kin can mourn,
When they’re passing by, on ev’ry morn.”
They heard her plead, not to be freed,
But to be lain, ‘neath apple seeds.
“please lay with me, a tree to grow,
So I can still feed, a family who knows,
That even in death, I gave all I could
Please bury me not, in those darkened woods”
They held her close, and bid farewell
To a friend they’d changed, to an empty shell.
And her last breath, was a broken cry
They killed a friend, who could never die.
“Bury me not, in that dark forest
Where timber wolves wail, and sadness rests”
And when she died, the words were lest
they buried her there, in that lone forest
