Standard (EADGBE)

 From tender years you took me for granted

 But still I deigned to wander through your lungs

 While you were sleeping soundly in your bed,

 (Your drapes were silver wings, your shutters flung)

 I drew the poison from the summer's sting,

 And eased the fire out of your fevered skin.

 I moved in you and stirred your soul to sing;

 And if you'd let me I would move again.

 I've danced 'tween sunlit strands of lover's hair;

 Helped form the final words before your death.

 I've pitied you and plied your sails with air;

 Gave blessing when you rose upon my breath.

 And after all of this I am amazed,

 That I am cursed far more than I am praised.