Open on 2 figures beneath a tree, night with a waxing crescent moon
Me, a young figure wearing light clothing head resting in the lap of the other.
Death, an obscured figure wearing dark clothing, stroking his companion’s hair.
Death, oh Death, where do you travel?
I travel to the worlds where time unravels.
Death, my dear, how do you make such a journey?
On the winds in silence over the land and sea
Death, my love, when will you come for me?
Death pauses his movements.
I will come for thee under an old oak tree.
On a moon lit night
as you rest in star light
yawns, eyes close
Death, oh Death, my dearest friend,
I am not scared of my end
partially lit and sad smile
Sleep, dearest, sleep
your gentle soul I will keep
Death bends forward and places a soft kiss on Me’s forehead before sliding out from under them and walking away.