What can I be now?
What must I be?
I have lost you, dearest
Though you’ve been gone for a while
What I shall be
To the world’s sea
I will be so for you
Dearest

I will become a figure
Lest I perish
For I am sure you were equally dire
Who else could teach me the dance of a lyre?
And the hymn of a quire?
A debilitating devotion
I have no obligations to myself
Not anymore

Only my labours of love
Will be shown to the world
All because of you, my love
You have given me the reigns
Which I crafted by my lonesome
Then, the nations will extend
To the far reaches of a forlorn nebula
And I will meet you there, soon