You do not see the shadows creep
Or lean over the bed.
At minute sounds you never leap —
I quake with rampant dread.
If you saw within my head
A civil tongue you'd keep.
Of certain things naught should be said
Nor whispered, not a peep.
You do not see the shadows creep
Or lean over the bed.
At minute sounds you never leap —
I quake with rampant dread.
If you saw within my head
A civil tongue you'd keep.
Of certain things naught should be said
Nor whispered, not a peep.
This is the end. If you haven't followed a link yet, perhaps you should take it from the top.