Like the bumblebee,
Ever magnified in thick-tongued silence
Beating, tearing, furiously
Our hearts rise, as angels rise
What holds them above the fray?
To find, and touch so softly
The most delicate flower
That flicks and quivers with every exultation
The human heart
Instrument of life, beyond death
Claim the souls of the departed, O grim reaper
For they are yours forever-more