Funeral - an exequy for him Bathed in flower field, thy solemn peace Beholding from afar, the one who reaped him Dressed in the eventide gown, she mourned not Lifelong astral projection, mistaken consciousness They treated not her wounds, only his The golden crescent moon, atop the beryl veil of the welkin An eclipsed beauty, shrouded within As one’s departure, marks the new dawn that behold shalt “She spoke into the night "This painted image of I and who I truly am. For what thou see is but a mirage, a mask, a figment. This endless sea of woe which I stand on, mirrors me not, but another." The gloaming dusk wrapped around the horizon and she sighed with consolation, and the celestial granted the sea an argent gleam. A radiance that rippled through the boundless expanse as she walked around aimlessly, but attained. And in the ripples floating she spotted a graceful lily. She whispered "I owe this to thee, thank thou truly". She closed her eyes and breathed the aura of the sea. The lily faded, and she transcended.”