And what shall become of me... I never wished for you to see.

My ends too gruesome for one so young, a pure, tender spirit...my sweetest dove. I shan't pollute something so new... Now kiss me softly, lovely dear; for I have held your soul so near. In death I won't let you be dismayed; you're not to watch me fade away.

Parents sweet and lovers dear are not to watch these fearful tears. These fits of pain which often tear is not a burden you're to bear. This is my challenge, this is my strife; it is I who holds the knife. Is my fate and cruel demise, a harsh reminder of how time flies? A lesson that we ne'er hold near all the ones we love

so dear?

And what shall become of me... I never wished for you to see. My ends too gruesome for one so young, a pure, tender spirit...my sweetest dove. I shan't pollute something so new... Now kiss me softly, lovely dear; for I have held your soul so near. In death I won't let you be dismayed; you're not to watch me fade away.

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