One lonely heart, sang the mourners song. Heart strings pulled taut by misery untold. Beneath doleful shades of a yew tree,
We hold hands and stare at death's table.
Dry and dead.
Leaves pirouette in the settling dust, Mocking the glum in our heart's song.
In the stillness of the space between death and life.
Our song echoes through, a symphony for lost souls.
But this abyss of dank emptiness devours our lovers song.
Darkness immersed, you float.
Hoping that the lights return,
And that one lonely heart begins the mourners song.