A Silver Rain

Dear mother, of my from your, 'O. I am with the sickness of his love, his love for me it grows inside. I was once amused above his head, my dreams you laid them out for me. Now below the foam of waves I rise. And where I go, you cannot raise them up. Still I am not so bitter that it was broke. I had to die for him, and is this the way, you grew my love? So, it is peaceful here and quiet. The place of where there is a silver rain, a place where there is music of the sea. I hear a bird that kicks the center of my melody. When once again the nest is empty, and one of those I had to hide inside, eternity.