last unicorn

when the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain

and the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain. in the shadow of the forest

though she may be all and on

they would stare unbelieving at the last unicorn. when the first breath of winter though their flowers it's icing

and you look to the north

and the pale moon is rising. and it seems like all is dying

and would leave the world to more. in the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn.