Rivers carve canals from your

Pretty brown eyes

You have this chime to your talk

Like a medicine bell-

You called me to comofrt.

You and I, we struck a familiar chord

But elapsed time drains the jovial spirit

Thus, your tears were like rain in Seattle

Inevitable to come

We became the other's grave-

I the gallows, you the noose

Heaven called.

You have always wished to fly.

You tied your shoes and 

Grieved to heaven, your omniscint audience

The bow became you butterfly wings.

Your feet lifted above the ground.

Twelve tolls a beckoning bell