Tear the tears from thine eyes. Let wilt thy garden's vines.
Curtains drawn and wards arrayed; to divert the poor victim's pain.
A life is lost, too little done too late. For one's thirst to be sate.
Tear the tears from thine eyes.
Let wilt thy garden’s vines.
The clock strikes the hour, to put to pasture the flower that once had bloomed.
The vines crept in and festered within until so soon our prize was no more.
They tried as they did, but in crept the sin and took her to long forgotten shores.