With heavy parchment and parted ink,
My pen calls out to your wandering mind.

Breathing in the dark of night,
Your oxygen keeps me alive.

Like a fire burning in the dark,
I cut the heavy fog of time.

If only with purpose would beat my heart,
Your oxygen would keep me alive.

Before our dawn could even start,
We reach the end of this cotton line.

Although in time we're torn apart,
Your oxygen keeps me alive.

Like a fleeting wisp you were to me,
Like a curl of smoke from a bed of pine.

Yet until this letter I complete,
Your oxygen will keep me alive.