Urn Burial

Don't go that way, I've got to see you.

Cover the mirrors,

Hide the scapes,

Turn our fey, crying faces.

The comb, the clothes, the knife;

Household things I leave beside.

Emerald ring I take as mine.

Hand to hand and life to life.

And what would it take

To drop off of the mount and upward into the sky?

Past the spheres and lights.

The digit, the measure of time;

Towering numismatic pile.

Trading each for days of life.

Now they're spent, what's left behind?

And what would it take to cross?

A wedding diamond, danake, or ruby fire?

Water sapphire?

And what would it take to go?

An opal, on obel, to make the path

Ere the dirt is piled?

And now interred all is as it was before.

Who is this all for?

And left above all is just some misplaced dirt.

Who is this all for?