Tis just what i fate,
What is my blood inheritance,the death and rot tis for me.
The pain the more i live,
Tis for me,the fate for me.
I love the green and free,
The life of a morning breeze.
How true,too true a smile for this
But the fate for me,
Is there,so real and true.
The pain to eat away my conscience
And plant the seed.
The seed will grow,from bed to field,
Nasty prickly vines engulfing,
Tightening and hardening.
My heart will stop,
My pen will drop,
My eyes won’t close,
For the green is gone,the breeze is dead,
What was for me is for me.
kyalo.