He misses the villa and well,
He realises the blissful darkness
Still with a passing gem he takes
One last breath then he's pulled down
His falling visions peacefully presume happiness
All that goes by
Until it flickers with a little chase
and it is gone.

Out of the rumble her voice
So distant, so pure and crystalline
When the clouds dissipate
Laying mist over the crux of her intention
Her bare arms emerge and waver
Pointing, Pointing into seas
Sometimes rough, sometimes calm
But never clear
Through these moments we stare.