It's the Spring of '53
A Man and a Woman
Fall in love.
They marry in a church
By a garden of sunflowers
On the river.
They make love soon after
For the first time.

It's the Summer of '63
Bells chime as They lie in the grass
Under an oak tree.
His rough and Her soft hands
Are grasping one another
As They talk of memories.
They laugh and kiss in deep love
As though They only just met.

It's Autumn of '73.
She's home alone thinking of Him.
Of the joy She's had
Since that Spring long ago.
On His way home from work
He drives to the church
By a garden of sunflowers
On the river;
To gather sunflowers for Her.

It's Winter of '73
She sits in their bedroom
Staring blankly at a paper,
"Murdered outside an old church."
She looks at Their wedding photo.
Her hand is steady
As She feels the cold steel
Kiss Her temple.

He's looking down on Her begging,
"Don't do it, please, God, don't do it."
She hears nothing more
Than the lonely roar
Of Her tears splashing
On Their wooden floor.
She smiles, and pulls the trigger.

Ye who rigid up your brow
The time hath come
The time is now.
Sailing head into the fire
Ye think your strong?
You're up for hire.

First
Hurrah! We sail!
Across the sea,
Our faces pale
And drinking mead.
Us crew prepare
For what's to be;
Her vicious trials
She throws to thee.
The winds are strong,
Our journey long.
We ready up
For stars to lead.

Second
Hurrah! We sail!
Our will is strong
We'll never fail!
We chant our song:
For ye who wish
For dreams
Come true:
Ye must fight for,
Through and through.
The think'n thin,
Ye down your gin
For fight is all to do.

Third
Hurrah! We sail!
We feast tonight
With bread and mead,
We celebrate.  
Our time of need
For land for *****
Hath soon to be.
That blessid lady,
Blessid be,
Her briefs so tight
Oh, blessid me!
She waits ashore
Across this sea.
She wants some more
Ye brethren and me!

Fourth
Hurrah! We sail!
The shore awaits!
To send ye mail,
To tell thy fate
Morale was high
Our time was nigh!
We fought for life
And none hath died!
So riddle this ye swabbie;
To be a man my friend,
For home we sail at dawn,
Hurrah! We sail again!

Some people cry
Before they die.
I ask, "why?,
All those lies?"
They look at the sky
Way up high.

In my darkest hour.

He's less than a guy;
You can't deny
So ***** your sigh.
You can't even rely
On keeping the tie
Between you and I.

You're right. Time to fly.

There is something foreign; a bright smile from one ear to the other: happiness. I am at peace. Life is good.
A walk in the park is where I meet you, the most beautiful woman in the world. That lucky great white.
We begin to talk, and we flirt, and then we set up a date. Dinner and a movie. We do that very often.
Months later we decide  it's time to move in together; buy a small house in a great neighborhood.
Not  long after that is when we marry and happily leave for our honeymoon in Paris, France.
We  decide  to have a beautiful child; a  beautiful  brown haired baby boy, now our family.
At our  peak  we discover a tragic flaw in his  health, an increasingly  growing disease.
I  turn for guidance, for relief, from a 10 year old bottle  of the bar's finest  whiskey.
My anger takes over as I start to yell  at  her, for dropping a small  glass of juice.
The door slams  on  my way out into  the  cold night.  My destination a blur.
You're home with the baby, both crying in its confusion and your regret.
I drive to the coast. A blindness of sorrow overcoming twinkling eyes.
You grab for the phone and call  for  me; your hour of helplessness.
I don't answer, my phone flies out  my  window as I drive faster.
You try to calm our baby boy, knowing his imminent tragedy.
I  stop the car. And  I  get  out , slowly  walking  to  the cliff.
You  tell  the  boy  everything  is  ok as you  start  to smile.
I open  my  wallet  and  pull  out a  picture  of  you  two.
You hold  him  and  nurture  him  as  if  you're  right.
I  stare  bl­ankly at  the  photo,  my  wife  and  boy.
You  begin  to sing to him; a nice, sweet lullaby.
I drop the  photo; and watch  the  wind take it.
"Oh, Hush,  little  baby, don't  you cry."
I  begin to fight a flow of bad emotions.
You  start  walking  him to his cradle.
I  step  up  to the welcoming  ledge.
You  remind our baby boy it's ok.
As  I  slowly  become  at  peace.
Our boy drifts off into a sleep.
I  step  forward  and  I  leap.
You quietly cry beside him.
As  I  fall  I quietly speak;
Four  soft,  last  words:
"I  love  you, Both."
Love can bring
The strongest
Down.