The White Swan Lake 

I stand here watching all alone,

As white swans caress the waters below.

The sun is setting and the skies are red,

The clouds, they grow darker above my head.

A note in my hand, crinkled and torn,

That will be found by tomorrow’s morn.

Again I take another glance,

At those swans as they dance.

A love so beautiful and so pure,

One I hoped I had endured.

But now I stand here alone and sad,

With no one to miss me, for that I’m glad.

Now a breeze does blow,

And I let the paper slip below.

From my fingers I watch it fall,

All my dreams, and love, all and all.

Now the decision I’ll have to make,

Weather to live, or die, at white swan lake.