Rasluka

There's so much to write about your death
And no song could succeed
In freeing me from the suffering
That the thoughts bring

I see the old pictures hanging
That have adorned the wall for so long
And sang with the wise crane
The dead who once flew with it

So I depart with it
But they hear me scream at night
I close my wings, see myself falling
No song could ever be a farewell