How do I know if you are real, my love?
I see you; you’re not really there,
Your eyes of blue are the great sky above,
But this sky has been lost, to who knows where?

I question you, anxiously, wanting, my love,
To know that your love still holds strong,
But your answer’s a wingless, earth-ridden dove,
Oh, and I fear that, my dear love, you have gone.

Still, I‘ve followed you fervently, hoping, my love,
That the love you professed still prevails.
But the clouds in your eyes signal imminent storm,
And your wind strikes in merciless gales.

I gaze up at you through my coffin, my love,
My heart will find you in your great skies above.