Grey I looked at it with blurred eyes, As a sea washed the dust off my cheeks, And the wooden boat to heaven parked at the Sorrow-Filled Dock, Waiting to take her away, It was once an emerald garden, leaves now turning grey. She laid flat on her back, On her pretty velvet bed, Her pillows were daisies, surrounding her head, Her teddy bear was made of roses, And they used her chest as their garden, A garden in May, The leaves turning grey. An army dressed in black bathed her in tears, Clothed her in sorrow, built up all these years, They all wore masks laced with sorrow, Even though they knew, They would be seeing her sapphire eyes very soon. The wind sympathized with everyone there, It hugged them tightly, And stroked their limp hair, It kissed their cheeks, So cold yet gay, The leaves were once green; now they're grey. Her spirit went up, And the coffin went down, Ascending to heaven, She saw a king with no crown, He held her hand and lead her through, Her garden would be now, Forever anew.
Ché Antoine
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