Somewhere
on a bed of moss
the Erl King lies,
autumn hair
unmoving,
the forest floor
mourning
as the sky fills --
once plucked
sparrows and larks
rejoicing in freedom.
on a bed of moss
the Erl King lies,
autumn hair
unmoving,
the forest floor
mourning
as the sky fills --
once plucked
sparrows and larks
rejoicing in freedom.
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