I hear the weeping willow's sighs,
Breeze drifting lazily through its eaves
As I sit 'neath the darkening skies.

Not much escapes the kestrel's eyes
With deadly justice, it perceives
I hear the weeping willow's sighs.

But clouds and fog make truths seem lies
And regal kings may seem like thieves
As I sit 'neath the darkening skies.

With cruelest talons, sharp as knives
Prepared to rend iniquities,
I hear the weeping willow's sighs.

But fiends and crooks need no disguise
When even hawks can misconceive,
As I sit 'neath the darkening skies.

There's warning in that raptor's cries
But we can't see what it believes,
I hear the weeping willow's sighs
As I sit 'neath the darkening skies.

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Chronos, in the year 649 AF.