John Morray walked away
Through the emerabld lawn and light prairie
He gently stepped into a sepulcher
A strange and silent one
As he moved forward and forward
He saw a man-an artist, who held a pencil
Came from the forest
He felt the artist but the artist
Seemed like he didn't see anything
The artist kept walking
And stopped in front of a particular grave
And sculpted some letters out
"J,O,H,N..."
John realized, and he deftly closed his eyes
And his body started to sink,sink, sink
He opened his eyes
And looked at the "him" who was still sculpting on the grave
That "him" was another John, another side of him
"J,O,H,N M,O,R,R,A,Y"
And John gently, slowly,once again,closed his eyes
And slept,slept and slept.
