death is a weak spoken word
as tinder burning — my love?
We were alive! Once, when
we saw the clouds covering
the quiet land in purple
and blues my dear.
The river was rushinng
thrashing and weathering
the ancient rocks —
our hearts, too!
Many believe death is end
but for lovers the beginning!
I shall be soft while I
conqueor the living now;
I will speak your name
and the celestial beings
— they already weep!