There exists no such kindness
To quite ever match the sea-
To bound bout the land
Threading stories and heart

Life and it's kingdoms
Wax and wane at her hand
A blink in her eye before apogee
What will we sing back when we depart?

Sing not anger in your last stand
Sing not of woes nor of sorrow
Sing sweetly back to the somber lady
Sing of the ways she adorned us in art

And know that together we will be
With her always - something grand.