A black raven ruffles on a stone by a hollow. It beckons you come where none want to follow.

Your pain and your sorrow his promise to bury. The cost is your soul to hell it will ferry.

Look away from the shadows and the depths of the sea. For none of those things want to see you set free.

So the next time the black raven's squawk doth beckon. Alas, it's call is the harbinger of depression.

The doctor said I’ve not much time to live. I cried for I had so much more to give. I walked the streets for hours lost in thought. Fate it seemed had led me to this spot. To a weathered old man with an understanding look. Holding a paper lantern he insisted that I took.

I got in my car and drove long into the night. To leave behind the drowning city lights. I found a spot that overlooked the sea. Seemed like the perfect place to set it free.

I released my paper lantern standing on my car. The cool zephyr slowly carried it to the stars. I sat on my hood and watched it float away. I knew like this paper lantern my light will slowly fade.

I pulled down the box of trinkets of old. Worthless items to most, for me it’s a box full of gold.

For fond memories within are lovingly entwined. I tenderly hold them in turn, drifting back into time.

Your wedding ring you wore since we two became one. I placed within, now that your soul has moved on.

I carefully placed it on a shelf by a dusty old clock. What comes next, now that my whole life’s in a box.