From tender years you took me for granted
(But still I deign to wander through your lungs)
While You were sleeping solemnly in your bed
(You're drapes were silver wings your shutter's flung)
I Drew the poison from the summer sting
(And eased the fire out of your fevered skin)
I Moved in you and stirred your soul to sing
(And if you let me I won't move again)
I've danced with sun lit strands of lover's hair
(And Formed the final words before your death)
I pitied you and piled your sails with air
(gave blessing when you rose upon my breath)
And after all of this, I am amazed
That I am cursed far more than I am praised