She could be less,
Though it's only natural,
The way she expresses,
Her intense nature.

Inside the storm,
You can meet her again—
She is the thunder,
The lightning, the rain.

Across the cold blue sky,
You can see her fall.
She is a shooting star,
Burning bright through it all.

In the silent breeze,
You can hear her speak—
Deep down in the ocean,
In the wine-dark sea.

Some call her fate,
I call her love.
She is life, and death,
My own overflow.