My friend, some things she is grieving. It is heavy, because it is seeing. Oh, love her.
My sister, is still grieving for the people and place of her leaving. It comes in waves, with tears for days. Oh, love her.
My sister, she will be grieving. It is her eyes, she’s been believing. Always implied, and never said. That speculation I see in dread. Oh, free her.
Myself, I have been grieving. Straining by night toward a fire, in the day after a pillar of smoke. I do not know where I am going. Oh, direct me.
