Once there was a willow tree.

A lovers' tree 'twas fit to be.

But times cannot define the soil,

War and hate marred branches loyal.

Rope on bark as cloth to back,

Love was all the tree did lack.

And on those boughs so long and limber,

A noose was strung on that sweet timber.

And lovers whos shared not last kisses,

Clasped cold hands, their words

Lost riches.

Swinging toward eternal slumber,

The lovers' tree did catch their ember.

Kindling eternal love,

Their souls set free to clouds above.