Shattered pieces fall like rain
Drop, and bounce, to fall again
Leaves will shake
Boughs will break
A hero will live; die in vain

The wind will still, and then will blow
A season comes as seasons go
Earth will turn
Love will yearn
'Tis God himself that makes it so.

Furrow no more
Thy weathered brow
O'er times before
Or even now

Play well the part
For which thee were cast
With all your heart
ACT ONE  'til the last

Offer naught a (sigh)
At the curtain's last fall
But smile and cry
At the end of it all

'Tis not a sep-er-ā-ted place
In the seam of joy and strife
Rather, the most perfected space
That connects a death to life.