I don't feel at all well."
I pray for thee to take my life instead of the one I so dearly love.
Her face is pale like the ivory of the distant realms,
and as I hold her hand in mine.
I clearly feel it's turning cold...like marble or snow.
Those memories just increase grief
as I watch the withering of beauty.
How can it be that tomorrow she's not here and I remain?
There has to be some kind of way
we can be together again... together again.
like statue made of clay.
slowly transforming back into dirt.
Deep under the sacred ground.
No one will be able to part us now.