Andean herb

Do we really want to end

the fairytale we've started?

Do we really want all things

to the forever get parted?

Do we really see

that what is meant to be,

will happen,

no matter what?

Even if we could have taken it easier,

and I could have forgot,

Do we really want that there

will be no morning?

When all the sun flowers

will look at you and travel deep,

so they could see the sun 'ats in your eyes,

and our love eternal,

and forever they' ll keep.

The lover is wandering now

in his world 'ats without her,

God how much he wishes that

he controlled his rage,

for the happiness left earth suddenly,

for all the globe is earthed,

and all the world's a stage.

He cries,

then he pauses,

as on his rocking chair,

he now sings,

lullabies to his children,

about angels without wings,

As he looks out of the window,

he resigned himself to faith,

because we live only once,

of his destiny he's taken the bait.

And he now knows,

that some questions remain,

without answer,

like the one inside his mind,

Why did his wife die of cancer?

And on her grave,

on the marble stone,

he now stands contemplating,

and all alone.

He looks at her picture,

the smiling one,

and then as if she can hear him,

starts tickling nature and emerges the sun,

But he knows that now he has to continue,

and leave everything and follow the trail,

for now in his old days,

he's become frail,

but one thing forever he will know,

that the love for his late wife

will forever grow,

and as he is making his last steps,

on his journey's curb,

he breathes the last breath,

sighs, and once more he thinks,

of his wonderful wife,

whom he called,

My Andean herb.

And the candle he lit on the grave,

suddenly goes off,

and the smell of the smoke,

glides along his now wrinkled face,

and enters his nose,

and all this is being registered inside,

and messaged by the brain,

'cause he knows that without her near him,

his life will never be the same.