Oh, death why come so late,
I've waited years and years;
I almost lost my faith;
by longing for you here,
you know this world do hates;
only those kinds of me;
for that I'll hold and wait
upon your guide and lead;
come take my hand, my mate;
come, take me to your bed;
show me what love you own;
show me what folklores said;
or show me what's unknown,
come show what's never seen;
for I might lose my home,
'least I shall find new scene;
but mate take me right where
I shall be laid to rest;
not just for now to bear
this answer-thirsting test
but lay me soft restored;
unto where I shall sleep;
or be alive once more;
somewhere it's just for me,
now stop I shall with words
come leisure me my friend;
let's be away from earth;
for time has got to end.
