To all my waking hours,
Spent on wilting beds of flowers,
To all my moments wrest,
Come sweetly now to rest,
To my biles bitter taste,
from words I've put to waste,
To the way I blindly grasp,
At loves sour clasp,
To the way I wait for you,
Even though I always knew,
To the way I think on moments past,
Stolen, just at the last,
To the things i'll leave behind,
And what I pray they find,
To the final breath I take,
I raise my drink and stake,
Rest the wounds left in my wake,
Live to feel another ache.