the eyes of a dying woman,
The eyes of sadness to leave for many;
With the blinking of the eyes i do write my mind.
In homely places,
To fill the hungering hearts of men;
In weary of love,
To fill the hungering hearts of women;
Of old times from the sea of love to,
The burials of the dead gone by!
Like the flames of a fire to build up your love.
I have spoken,
I have written,
I have read;
Of the dreams and visions that grow plain to share.
How should i dine when no one buys?
How should i mourn when no one dies?
Hoe should i dig when no one plants?
How should i burry when no one dies?
Clear to all men’s eyes,
This little place in me is left alone.