He floats along, much like a cloud, in a blue-ish, misty hue,
As he casts out his dreams into the sunset to start anew,
For if Love without Life is not Life at all, then where would we all be?
Almost all without Love, so is it really Life? There is no answer in you, nor me.
But what if the Life once had a Love, then it withered away to die?
And he was left to weep bitterly, and eventually, as a soul, fly……..