Death, to thee I plead

It's only your comfort I need

Your cold hand, with mine I'll hold

To glean silver from the moon, and from the sun, gold.

Lift me up, and leave me to the wind of fates

With open arms, the starry sky awaits

To break my fall, hold me close

Away from all fears and foes

To this enticing cage, I've waved a fond goodbye

Now free me, I want to fly

Death, to thee I plead

For you, I would gladly bleed

-Aarya Mirasdar (ryasvitkona)