Five of these days, one each of the last five years,
I have been in the cyclical existence of hell,
and while the promise given is for there to be no more tears,
It’s not looking very well.
For if there is a heaven, and I get to see you there,
I’ll offer you a promise you can be sure that I will keep.
The next time I lay touch upon your golden hair,
I assuredly will weep.