The Ballad Of John Doe
Listen to the sounds of soft footsteps,
It is as though he has never left.
See the silhouette of an encroaching figure,
Walking in a straight line with all his vigour.
His face is clouded, hidden in the shadows,
But his eyes shine like the morning light on the meadows.
You can hear faint sounds of his soothing voice,
Gently calling from the other side of the void.
John Doe he is,
Unknown but missed,
This ballad he sings in bliss.