Happy mourning, soothing screams,
From thy cheeks elating tears stream.
In my sepulchre the way thou dement,
Much more elation thou felt and faint.
But thou know not, I may now hear not,
See not, believe not, hurt not, cry not,
Argue not, beg not, bleed not, die not,
And thou can feel me but caress not.
Thou were the disease, I was saving
And I was the cure, thou were killing
A half way to life, I ceased to persist.
I was bound to die, I couldn't assist.
If only thou had seen then, the one
Who grieved when thou were gone.
But I always knew, it will happen,
I would be left alone, be sun risen.