To the dear of dears,
can you my voice hear,
Thine spirit i feel near,
Yet thou art not here,
Hail Thee…..
Hail thee,
In God's Heaven, the best of all to be,
Thine white heart no more pain can see,
With angels and birds to live eternally free,
From filth, dirty mundane the good spirit flee,
Paradise, thine best place to be…
Blessed thee…
Yet, thine loss
I cry and seek
thine sound hiss
music in all the ears…
Thin whispers, I miss
The best tissue to wipe the tears,
Yet in death and life,
Thou forever would be
Dear to all not only to me…
Viva thee….
In good hearts thine cry
In good souls thine never die
With angels thou would fly
But the lute strings cry:
"The tender fingers passed me by
The voice in me became dry
Without the best friend of mine,
Alas… Dear friend died
Yet in bliss may thine body lie
Dear of dearest,
Rest to thee…"
But how can the murderers live free?
Nay… No doubt right would win
And from justice no one can flee
The fire would blacken their skin
The colour of their spirits is to fee
The butchers in Hades, their true lee,
Their bodies should be settled,
For their hands with innocent blood spotted
And every baby in its cradle
Every mum who lights a candle,
Would curse thine murderers and scream,
The black spirits in eternal torture,
Damned be….
can you my voice hear,
Thine spirit i feel near,
Yet thou art not here,
Hail Thee…..
Hail thee,
In God's Heaven, the best of all to be,
Thine white heart no more pain can see,
With angels and birds to live eternally free,
From filth, dirty mundane the good spirit flee,
Paradise, thine best place to be…
Blessed thee…
Yet, thine loss
I cry and seek
thine sound hiss
music in all the ears…
Thin whispers, I miss
The best tissue to wipe the tears,
Yet in death and life,
Thou forever would be
Dear to all not only to me…
Viva thee….
In good hearts thine cry
In good souls thine never die
With angels thou would fly
But the lute strings cry:
"The tender fingers passed me by
The voice in me became dry
Without the best friend of mine,
Alas… Dear friend died
Yet in bliss may thine body lie
Dear of dearest,
Rest to thee…"
But how can the murderers live free?
Nay… No doubt right would win
And from justice no one can flee
The fire would blacken their skin
The colour of their spirits is to fee
The butchers in Hades, their true lee,
Their bodies should be settled,
For their hands with innocent blood spotted
And every baby in its cradle
Every mum who lights a candle,
Would curse thine murderers and scream,
The black spirits in eternal torture,
Damned be….