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This body will be ash
and every word it spoke
into the void and nothing

All things resolved
In the quiet

But for this impermanence, there would be no meaning

and I will hold every breath
in the palm of my hands,
And will it back into your lungs
That your essence would sustain

This body will be ash
And every fickle quarrel

The essence of all things
Reflected in its opposite

But for this impermanence, there would be no meaning

Born of all that's come to pass
And all that is written
Every burden carried forth
Each moment only so precious as it is brief
In pain lies the heart of all things

Born of all that's comes to pass
This fleeting moment is everything
In pain lies the heart of all things
In loss, and absence, and transience,
We find ourselves

In pain lies the heart of all things
But for this impermanence, there would be no meaning
Born of all that's come to pass

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