Who left you here, dear fallen soul,
To wither on this frozen ground?
What ailment left you so undone,
That no heart could fix you?
What cunning thief, who stole your fire,
Did lay you here to rot?
Oh, spirit dark and cold with time,
You lie where you once stood.
As summers pass above your head,
Never to be felt in your bitter tomb.
Where once a heart did bloom and sing,
Now grows the aster flower.
Petals turned to the stars,
Where your spirit may never sleep.
Dear fallen soul, that none remember,
Who comes with gifts of flowers?
As you lie here for ever more,
With only the aster, to see your tears.