Forward Life

Life is life, not tampered none,

Below the universe and the sun.

I say to you, on whom bestowed,

Antiquity of love I do betroth.

Sit with me upon a shelf,

Waiting for the purist wealth.

And walk the way of gratitude,

As she replenishes satisfied,

The emerald eyes who once have died,

And froze in hisfory, oh those eyes,

Be thee not the greatest mystery,

Or otherwise in simplicity.

For you I love, in life and death,

Your heart it beats of all the rest.