Not a thought given to the sweet hours lost,
Cold chills come, and skin feels like frost.
A taste of darkness, a thought then none,
From this I’ll awaken, and see the sun.
Each and every day, a small piece is gone,
In another worlds dimension, my thoughts run on.
Should I die before I wake?
I’ve many times died in these hours you take.
Is this what its like, this breath of death?
That lulls you in with promise of rest?
I’ll never give up, or ever get tired.
If in my last hours I’m pulled to the pyre.
A little rest now? There’s eternity later.
Rest is for the weak, don’t do me no favors.
Goose pimples my warning, you’re closing in,
Well life’s to be lived and your sloth a sin.
———————————
You think by familiarity and constant exposure,
I’ll get used to your wiles and except your foreclosure?
Your sadly mistaken, I’ll stand till knocked down.
Old age my gift and gray hair my crown.
“Upon completion of anything, you are finished.
Enjoy the process, for that’s all there ever really isâ€
-Ray-
