A caterpillar needs to die
To become a butterfly
Only then can it fly

There are stories in the mirror
I read them everyday
Each day a new story
Different from yesterday's

Each day I read something new
But some stories turn out blue
Each mirror tells a story
To a stranger or friend
The stories they tell
Are different but never end

Each mirror tells a story
When it's in the light
But grows quiet and cold
If the moon is in sight

There are stories in the mirror
I hear them all the time
Just look in the closet
They are waiting to be told

My voice is cracked from crying
Who then will sing your dirge
It's hard to speak or say goodbye
Or stop my hands from trembling

Tears roll down as we shared the grace
I try to sing but start to cry
Now I stare at a soulless face
Hoping that somehow 'tis all a lie

Dressed in white, your arms by your side
The door is closed as you take a ride
To an Isle that lies beyond the road
A road there is with no return
A place that someday even I will follow

While I can't tell you how I feel
At least I can write you a song
That those who hear ur Epicedium
Will cry for then they know
An angel had left for home