Twisted lilies in the steaming lagoon,

wrapping around willows that are covered in dew.

Shining bark, damp from the stew,

that covers it's roots from anything's view.

Frogs croak in the morning light,

the buzz of flies no one's delight.

Storks rest on the limbs,

the willow there longer than the oldest hymns.

A quiet morning past the cities brims.

Songbird, sing your tune,

lighten the veil,

stay until the appearance of moon,

we will tell your tale.

In the morn, when you come back,

sing your song,

I doubt you'll lack,

and the day will stay long.

I write mindlessly,

my words flowing with no thought,

am I just a bot?

If I turned to you
With the moon and stars
In my eyes

Would you look back at me
With the inky night sky?

If I chased the sun
With a burning pride

Would you follow
Right behind?

If I made the trek
Up to mountainous
Peaks

Would you stay at the bottom
Or
Come with me?

If I walked down
a different
Path

Than you’ll take

Would you follow
Or stray away?

Would you
Stray
Away?