Cradle - rustic-moon

Cradle me baby,

With the boughs of this tree

But don't let me tumble,

Through the brambles and leaves.

Hoist me in the air

So high they wouldn't dare

Clamber on up

And instantly pluck

My heart from your cling.

Let time make my wings flourish

Through the will of your nurture and nourish,

So the day I fall

I'll be ready

To leave.

The End

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