The Cuckoo and the PenhallowCuckoo, cuckoo!High in the tree,T am the cuckoo, hear me!Call to the farmer,I wish for his daughter,Call to the cobbler,I demand his elf,Cuckoo, cuckoo!I am the cuckoo, hear me!Call to me the weres of the magpie,The art of the swan,Cuckoo, cuckoo!High in the tree,Hark the hunter, who doubts me so,The Penhallow son, might he be,Freed the girl from my tree,And to the elf, might he slight,This ignorant man bringing me blight,Cuckoo, cuckoo!Whoa is me!The end of my days,The son of Penhallow, murderer of my ways.
PrussiaXReader: By NowYou lay awake beside gilbert, both of you pretending to sleep. The silence over you was louder than the fight you had had with him.You would leave him this time. You knew it was the last straw, that you never wanted it to happen again. But deep down, you felt it was worth it; just to be with him, for him to hold you lovingly at night, to kiss you good morning before he got ready for work.You loved him, even when he came home slobbering drunk, ready for another screaming match."I should just leave," gilbert whispered into the darkness, but you held your act, your eyes snapping shut.Gilbert got up from the bed, pulling on a flannel shirt and jeans over his pajamas. He silently padded to your side of the bed, leaning down to kiss you, but pulling back, remembering the pain in your voice when you had told him this was your last night together.He turned, leaving the room. A few minutes later, you heard the front door as the automatic door lock slid into place.The hollow sound triggere
The Eyes of a SoldierWhat are the thoughts of a soldier at war,That of his family, left at home,The horrors of hell,Held in his hands,Life to take,Armies to conquer,And blood will spill,In the eyes of a soldier,What is the last length of life,The darkness of his past,And the nightmares of his future