There was a steady arm and hand to hold

when crossing chasms over the unknown.

Our promise to each other made us bold;

“ In illness and in health,” never alone.

But vigor cruelly fades then disappears,

and golden songs are silenced in my core.

I jump abysmal chasms holding fears

because of no return to life before.

So jailed in this place of silent shaking,

I await the golden song with aching.