Gentle lady, do not sing
Sad songs about the end of love;
Lay aside sadness and sing
How love that passes is enough.

Sing about the long deep sleep
Of lovers that are dead, and how
In the grave all love shall sleep:
Love is aweary now.

Water

Pulled by moon

Entranced by
Sun.

I am water

Flowing

Moving

Or stinking
Stagnant.

Like water
Breeding
Moving

Out of Afrique

To Mars