My God have mercy upon me in this Hour of DeathnI pray for thee to take my life instead of the one I so dearly lovenHer face is pale like the ivory of the distant realmsnAnd as I hold her hand in mine, I clearly feel it's turning coldnLike marble or snownnRemembering the days of joy, not so long agonThose memories just increase grief as I watch the withering of beautynHow can it be that tomorrow she's not here and I remainnThere has to be some kind of way we can be together againnTogether againnnAs she fades awaynLike statue made of claynnAll I wish is to be in grave with hernSlowly transforming back into dirtnDeep under the sacred groundnNo one will be able to part us now