Dead Man's Bells

O' Juliet, 

How in wheat you wept 

Following where I walked 

To the depths, we nearly slipped. 

Parting eyes in mist, 

Sewn below the seeds, 

Should you wake me then 

From a coma-colored dream. 

I will need you all the more 

As setting suns shall come, 

A word or two in your arms 

Will place me where thou art. 

A purple room, in a river swale, 

A stone so large: it's standing sable 

It bares the weight, chaining mine, 

Holding down, from moving on. 

In Death. . . I once counted peace. 

Of what remains 

And what it meant to me. 

Oh, your voice.. 

How calming so it seems, 

Calling me home back to you 

To end the journeying.