Nocturne in F min. No. 2

Sometimes life is unbearably beautiful and would if I could weep, before its grandiose figure embracing it with open arms shedding a tear on its shoulder its hand patting my back like some long forgotten friend of years past and the love of such a friendship a roar of emotion both good times and bad and two spirits joined by the clasp of their hands in an exchange of brotherhood under the blue skies of childhood a nostalgia so deep it collapses before itself and gathers its soul in its arms and lays it in on a bed beside the windowsill from which a friend a family a loving figure smiles and waves watching over the soul as it sleeps and dreams of unbearable beauty with whom it weeps and laughs and kisses and loves, then I would be complete and utterly complete and utterly unbearably complete.