In a stiffened state of morbid bliss,
I felt your cold immortal kiss,
Across the years and from the grave,
Your tales of death, my heart did sway.
A written clue as to who was you,
And how I felt as though I knew.
Indeed you knew that I would come,
And left your words from the beyond,
To be your voice, that all would hear,
Your singing soul, which sings so dear.
Oh, how I wish that I could kiss
Those hands in all their perfectness,
Which spilt those words which touch my heart,
And rendered this immortal art.
So in my dreams I hear you sing,
Of death, of life,,, of loving things.
Until reluctantly awoke,
And so of your words, I then wrote,
Of how your life has touched my soul,
And of the words that your ghost spoke.
