She died,

poor child

but we mourned not at her
passing

(away, away)

So strange when we loved her so.
(oh, the passion of our love)

So well in health
her death was welcomed.

(dark dreams)

She could not have died sooner
The moment of her dying --- perfect
(the passion of a perfect dying)

I was there

I made it perfect

(Bringer of the Dark Flower of Passion)

I
went to
her funeral

(out of love,
not sorrow)

The weeping willows were dripping

dripping with tears of rain

They were the ones who cried

for she who died

Sleep well, our love.