She may well be gone hateful ages to consume.

I ask myself, how did we get here this way?

Love lost to sleeping, oh darkest, evil day!

I must press onward, through the days I shove

Crossing oceans of time, alone, my love.

The vision's now in my mind again.

The crimson wounds; oh I knew it then.

Would take you to a place from me.

To rest, perhaps, eternally

This thought consumes all my will,

My mind sees you lying still.

Your beauty hidden now,

The trouble on my brow.

All that's left to be,

Unaccompanied