When a Dawning
Starts with Yawning,
When the New Fawn
Comes to Stay,
When Lights are Linked
In Morning,
Love will Not Hold Sway.
When What has
Gone Before,
Comes Here Once Again,
I'll Dream a Dream
Of Soaring,
Before Night
Has Her Say.
And When Night
Beholds my Mourning,
When Blackest Ink
Won't Dry,
You'll Heed my Cries
Of Warning,
As Black Consumes the Sky.