As the piercing whistle sounds its last, a conductor signals near
Yet, she stands, adorned with crimson blossoms she holds do dear
Church bells now chime their endless tones of grave depart
With echoes of his voice, still lingering, striking her heart
She carves a name upon the rime of the bitter air
Such trance, such grief, as her trembling foot hits the first stair
If onyl she could kiss those cheeks once more, blessed with perfection
Nothing but a whisper now on a train without direction
Such is the black veil that mocks those tear-stained eyes
Would this garment, perched with gloom, lead to her demise?
Alas! The lively throb arrives to its sure delay
Even the rain hums its lullaby on this forsaken day
Ripples of her tears dance tenderly upon the shore
Speaking a tale of misery, knowing she can take no more
She spreads his ashes beneath the coves, feeding that gaping sea
Only to think for a moment, where will my heart now be?