Wish my forgotten wishes, and feel a forgotten rhyme,
from touch of the forgotten lore,
and dust upon forgotten times,
from droplets of forgiven hours,
that fall from forsaken flowers.

Narcissus, first flower of forgetfulness,
whose Lethe bathes us in our sleep.
Give the forgotten memories,
that we never can forget.

Forge a forgotten fire,
from a forgotten flame,
forgetting is more beautiful than any recall.

Lillies that fill the valley,
roses by other names,
lilacs by the courtyard bloom,
and daffodils follow the rain.

For each forgotten petal,
that opens in forlorn passion,
their finds a place,
where rests your face,
upon my lap,
and fear no evil,
even in the valley of death.

For I have forgotten the fears,
that are whispered in years,
in cradle and crib.

Set me feet on an earth unborn,
untorn by wars,
unturned by years,
untouched by tears,
undrenched by sorrows,
unblemished by age.

It has been forgotten,
because it never was in their hearts at all.