She walks down the moonlit path,
Her eyes hold secrets not yet told,
She coils and yearns for someone to hold.
He’s waiting there she thinks to herself,
He’s waiting there ten past three,
Under the ivory tree.
The ivory tree is in the meadow,
Safe and guarded from the plowing fields.
She walks to him as he waits for her,
Under the ivory tree.
He’s been sleeping there for the past five years,
Curled up in a bed of velvet and wood.
He dreamed for days and wondered for nights.
Only to come back to the ivory tree.
As she comes to him,
She cries the tears of a thousand rain storms,
And falls back into the deep dark abyss,
Only clawing at the memories she had of him.
As she suffers as she goes,
She will always come back to the engraved stone.