Lay me down in a field of flowers, So I can breathe in the grass as it grows. I've made my trek a thousand miles, In a willful traipse of bloodied bones. I've built my sward to survive the stories, I've built a fortress of bramble and stone. Protect my body and cage my mind, Let me live in quiet hushed sorrow - May a river of tears flow from my head, And nurture the land born of my flesh. May the tales that I have read, Exist in me eternally, Exist in me, for in my thicket of thorn, I have lived one thousand lives, And for each one, I vow to die, A thousand, bittersweet Deaths.