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And she shut the world away, Lost in her midnight gardens, Where only darkness can bloom... Like fishing lines strung into the depths, My bleeding hands mean nothing. It's all in the hand you were dealt. Some are never able to rise above it, Destined to fall and to fail, Oh, if only I could be; Boundless, endless, eternal... Rough hands tangled in soft hair, Seaweed stitching my lips shut, As the ocean rattles against my bones, The sea shimmering like molten gold; Calling me home.

Smoky spirits swell, silently into the nighttime sky Flame’s flicker, feverish and fast from the funeral pyre Red death reflections on the sacred river nearby Memories and moments burned up in a blaze of fire Flower blossoms and branches burning bright and warm Treasures and trinkets to travel with and gold coins for the toll you’ll require Friends and family gather, saying goodbye, as witnesses swarm A blazing glow guiding you to a promised afterlife The soul of the dead is released from their physical form Sparking into a world without struggle, sadness and strife One could almost feel the moment they depart Time extinguishes the embers of a passionate and painful life I gathered a pocketful of your white-hot ash to save apart And still, there is nothing that could ever replace your flame and your fiery heart.