A young woman dressing black
Bending under the weight on her back
A load with pictures of peoples upon it dangled
People weren’t there when I died
Her bare feet were bleeding,
Her tall hear, with the winds, were flying.
I yelled for her and cried.
She gave me no reply
But looked at me and smiled
The most bright smile ever shined
From the most beautiful face ever made
… and she passed me fast.