Between here and over there
Respites a bleak valley of fear
Where dwells wailing widows
Behind those green meadows
Mourning deaths of bleeding lovers
An ugly cloud over it always hovers
I sometimes halt at the fork
Deciding which trail to unlock
Every path passes the same valley
For its almost a blind alley
Shall I take the track leading
the valley where moans of bleeding
resonates or just turn back speeding
Never to turn around in that trail
Where the drab and dreary prevails
But if I turn back ill be labeled a fail
For there are tracks we must take
knowing that our hearts will break
So I continue the march to the valley
without any further tilly tally.