At arms length aside us
a wisper
waiting for reply as we
listen.
Regard her voice as
ambience
that needn't ask for
attention.
Slow down our
singing
for what lavender has put
us through has died.
Her days
were stolen
screaming still her
struggle disappears at dawn.
By
what design
do you allow
yourself to die for us here?
Yet
we refuse to speak your
name.
This fountain we drink
from
lets a girl behave as though
she's unbroken.
But breaking as
she begs us
her pleas in
unison..they dissapear.
As
monuments we'll meet again.
Far
away she cries alone
as silently
we vow to let her go.
Tell her
we're sorry
Tell her we'd tell
the world what she would be
if
we'd forgotten what we've seen
here.
She was meant to die.