The wayfaring is tedious and long, the life becomes insignificant. As we shed many tears, it feels like there's really not a purpose.When the time arrives, I do not want my box plain, I want my sarcophagus to have a moon with stars painted on it. I want to be looking at them when they start shining through my tomb. I can imagine it like in dreams, the lustrous tiny Stars; they gather and bring me youth; and they will wonder if I was loved. The flowers from my bedroom look dry and decomposed; I do not trust in time, it goes against our dreams, bringing age alive, and a sour taste to life. Our shadow's will remind us, as we walk, the age is growing faster each day. Let me have my thread and needle; Let my fragrance indulge the wind, and make it mine. Bloom about me like night flowers, with a fresh smell; And they will dress me up with petal's, and will keep my heart. I shall be in peace. I will feel like a serene Highness in her Royal Castle.