They say that God lives very high;
  But if you look above the pines
You cannot see our God; and why?

And if you dig down in the mines,
  You never see Him in the gold,
Though from Him all that’s glory shines.

God is so good, He wears a fold
  Of heaven and earth across His face,
Like secrets kept, for love, untold.

But still I feel that His embrace
  Slides down by thrills, through all things made,
Through sight and sound of every place;

As if my tender mother laid
  On my shut lids her kisses’ pressure,
Half waking me at night, and said,
  “Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser?”

My angel...
I don't know what tomorrow holds
Or how the future may unfold
But when the eulogy is told
I want them to say I lived
Don't shed somber tears
Reflect throughout the years
The laughter and love we had together
And how thru thick and thin
I held your hand until the end
Through any storm with u I weathered
It breaks my heart to leave you here
I cant look back for it causes me pain
I'd take my heart out
Give it to you without a doubt
If I thought that would keep u sane
But ill move on and so will u
You'll have joy laughter and love
And when u sleep tonight
Dreaming your sweet dreams
Just know with all my might
I'm smiling down on you from above

O Captain! My Captain
An agent of Time
Set out on a mission,
That went all but fine.
Two years of memories
All down the drain

Two new friends left him
Near as soon as they came
After a battle between Dalek and man
This in a sense,
Was his last stand.
He came, he conquered
He fell, and rose

Abandoned by friends
To fend for his own

Back in time he went,
And stuck once again,
Our Captain seemed doomed
To live on his own

The immortal was cocky,
Lived life to its best
Though after a few hundred years,
He'd soon beg for rest.

O Captain! My Captain!
What's brought you dread?
Is it the fact that you went
From human to a head?

He was merely a face.
The Face of Boe, he was called.
His long lived life,
Lived with flaw.

Alas, it seems,
All things come to an end.
And with the Time Lord and companion,
Our Captain was dead.

O Captain, my Captain!
Though plans were never followed through,
We all met you with one line:
"Captain Jack Harkness, and who are you?"

Why do we sentient beings,
We intelligent masses of flesh and bone
Feel an inclination to wonder?
To admire and collect and ****** beautiful things?
To pluck a flower from a forbidden garden,
And to taste  lethal meat?
To see and feel and smell
And hear and taste
Until our synapses overload
And we experience nothing more
Than an achingly painful
And powerfully unsurpassable joy?
Maybe this is what it means to be human...

I do not miss you in moments,
But rather the lingering space that lies in between them:
The soft "nn" sound preceding "one mississippi"
Falls stagnant as I attempt to count out measurements of my grief.
Your presence is too large to be condensed into the language of time,
Hours and minutes limply droop over each other,
Until nothing is certain besides your existence.
Two mississippi, three mississippi,
I slowly drag out the syllables in a subtle defiance to your untimely exit.
Your time isn't yet over, I've kept you alive,
Pushing air into your crumpled lungs by counting sheep.
The moments in which you fell are recycled here,
Like stale air in a small cement cell,
They propel my time forward the same way they stopped yours.
I do not miss you during desperate sentences full of almost there prose,
But instead during the white space that runs between each line.

Four mississippi, five mississippi.