Will you meet me inside the woods
under a cold midnight sky?

If these trees could talk,
will they whisper through
the willows of your luminous
eyes and melodic voice?

The almighty power in the
universe could break my clock
before I discover my potential
and strive for false success in
my golden years.

My head,
your shoulder,
a midnight sky,
an infinite vessel of constellations,
my clock stops ticking,
what a very pleasant way to die...