As I lay here in this grass,
   I wonder if you think of me      
      kindly.
  Sometimes my map is a blank 
     sheet of parchment,
And my chain of keys fits no
     door.
   As I lay here in this grass,
    my eyes overflow with salty   
         tears.
  My arms reach for the stars,
     My hopes and my dreams.
          But I cannot reach.
  As I lay here in this grass,
     My world tumbles and is a  
       great mess.
Wherefore hast thou gone,
        To causeth thee to disappear 
     when I needed thou most?