I'll be there waiting,
At the edge of hell,
My hands finely burning,
With eyes tearing at the smell.

But worry not little one,
My pain will soon be gone,
And surely enough release will outlast,
Whoever sings this very song.

Worry not little one,
For flame will surely tell,
Whether husk is truly dusk
Inside a human shell

And perhaps I will concede to you,
And your youth so vibrant and gay,
Yet let it be known I have no home
In the hearts whose words have sprayed
Me, with gilded fevers
So vehement and hot
The ruins of a fallen land
Started from a meteor drop

But labels to such fables sink into the sky
Since before 'they' have adored
What they thought was God's eye,
Or even the vast Plutonian shore

Yet what they see are stars a'fire
Dexterous in their flame
For they traveled years of light
With nothing but themselves to blame

So worry not my little one
For eternity isn't long,
Endless it is but forever it sits
Upon the chair of lives long drawn

Because nothing is forever
Yet it can be romanced so,
Even if you stay and play
Until the end, the end of the day
To Plutonian shores you'll eventually go.

And whether you think they are in the stars,
On the coast or in the hosts-
Our bodies, which will decease,
Will richen the splendor of earth with her own girth
Nothing can nor will stop such need.