With grace my mother can you play the harp  Like an angel to a saint  I feel so lonely the loved falling far from grasp    Dei gratia,  heal the wounds that cut so deep  To never cease feeling such misery, so real  To utter with a lisp, so subtle  Ab initio ad finem    I kiss your forehead  You clasp to my palms  The uterus from which gave birth  Stares withered and sopine  Hide the cries you so hear  Stripping you so naked  Wipe the sweat from your brow  Weeping to a given drought    The shrouding of the light  Death is your god send  Upon your final breath the skin upon my arm rigours  Deus misereatur de profundis quantum libet  Taedium vitae esto perpetua