What sorrow struck the willow tree?
Is it the same that's stricken me
Where in my soul, I once was free...
And now it claims the best of me?
What joy and peace have I to keep
When low I am, and long I weep
A soul that cannot rest to sleep,
While pain and hurt lie still too deep.
Dark vultures soar in skies so cold
To watch what little life I hold,
With eyes so bleak but yet so bold
Upon the branches of my soul
They wait for me to fade away
To have no colors of blissful days
And to my soul, they fiercely say
''There is no color in what is gray.''
What more has life to me to bring
I have not felt or have not seen
Can it not grant me
A simple dream....
Upon my branches,
A bird to sing?
Oh sorrow that struck the willow tree
Are you the same that's stricken me
Where in my soul, I once was free...
You think you've claimed the best of me?
Do not predict that I may feel
I've lost the war, thus lost my will
For upon my branches,
A bird will sing
And I'll have my song;
I'll have my dream.
Is it the same that's stricken me
Where in my soul, I once was free...
And now it claims the best of me?
What joy and peace have I to keep
When low I am, and long I weep
A soul that cannot rest to sleep,
While pain and hurt lie still too deep.
Dark vultures soar in skies so cold
To watch what little life I hold,
With eyes so bleak but yet so bold
Upon the branches of my soul
They wait for me to fade away
To have no colors of blissful days
And to my soul, they fiercely say
''There is no color in what is gray.''
What more has life to me to bring
I have not felt or have not seen
Can it not grant me
A simple dream....
Upon my branches,
A bird to sing?
Oh sorrow that struck the willow tree
Are you the same that's stricken me
Where in my soul, I once was free...
You think you've claimed the best of me?
Do not predict that I may feel
I've lost the war, thus lost my will
For upon my branches,
A bird will sing
And I'll have my song;
I'll have my dream.
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Purely perfect in every way.