The call is clear,
The emotion is divine;
It is a dauntless campaign,
When it is a match you must find.
Crying out in the middle of the night,
Gnashing your teeth, praying for a sign;
Where would be that heart that was so bold?
Not here today, but left far behind.
Travelling endless miles in your sojourn,
racing downhill, you think you have survived the incline;
But the nimble and icy fingers of the grave beckon to her,
Forever disembodied, a listless wandering will remain thine.
