Eventide

Lily flower looks up into the sun 
on the morning when life was taken from her 
in an instant torn up by the root 
now there's nothing save a bed of stones  Eventide and a cool, playful breeze 
and in my ear a soft voice to me whispers: 
,when life passes, it leaves in its wake 
a tiny void, an absence, nothing more.  Always helps to find 
deep down inside your mind
a memory warm and dear  You know sorrow has its own way but as humans we do not want to see it she is fickle, she's stubborn and cold she doesn't give or take, she only is  Always helps to find 
deep down inside your mind 
a memory warm and dear