From Highschool Years

The grass withered where he walked.

The trees bent the other way.

Night time descended when he walked.

Well, that what they say.

I saw him once, deep in prayer,

In the icy still of the church-yard.

I shivered and turned away in fear.

And blessed my self for god.

Next I saw him on the road.

Bereft and empty, dark his eyes.

A marble hand gnarled, stiff with cold.

I swiftly passed him by.

 

She waits for me around every bend
But I mock her
Laugh in her face
She'll not govern when my end.
I'll not run her mortal race.

She will wait for me
Until I am ready to be free
Until I clasp her icy hand
And join her in her lonely land.