Dear Nina, yet to be born,
my life you may never adorn,
but, I'll be your port in a storm
and your anchor at Cape Horn.

You are the blood I lose cut by a thorn
and the tear that splatters on the lawn.
And know that when salt glazes your look,
There will be me, swinging a hook,
to grab and change your passing luck.

If you ever breathe and cry,
forgive my worried sigh.
I won't lie, 'tis cause I'll be afraid to die.
Cause you'd whale and scream out, “why?”

Yet, even though, it's you
that will make me fear death,
know this is only true since
it is you who really gave me breath.

My sole reason for not wanting to leave,
ain't the silly reaper or grieve.
It's cause you make me believe.

I may not have seen your starry smiles,
for which I'd drag galaxies for miles.
I may not have heard your earthly giggles,
which I'd chase with tricks 'n' tickles.

Yet, I wanna put you on my shoulders and give you a lift.
I wanna wrap up the universe and tell you it's a gift.
For you. For being, if only in my dreams,
a supreme being truly worthy of freeing.