‘Tis a book of pain six year’s closed
That her vibrant spirit suddenly froze;
With hair of gold and lips of red
So delicate upon the coffin bed.
Her pages now call out to me
To open them up and set her free;
Like enchanted tales from long ago,
Who has the kiss to waken her soul?
From the Linden tree her name took breath
And through the tree she passed through death;
Glass shattered into gems that shimmered
A carpet of sundrops that danced and glimmered.
For a poet’s soul, 'twas a symbolic sight--
Death would not dare to darken her light!
A proclamation sent loud and clear,
She was just changing worlds; nothing to fear.
She takes up her mantle among legends of old;
Listen! Give ear! For new tales to be told.
Queen of the trees with the heart-shaped leaves,
Her reign has begun for the one who believes...
