Dying slowly through the eyes, Silently and blind. Felling weak and sleep, But also feeling kind. Peeling back the pages, Of the past I once did lead. People say it wont happen to me, And these words I did believe. Now I close the pages, Of the life I once did have. But when you are still lying there, It makes you feel so sad. People think that when you die, It is all dark and dull. But I know there is a heaven, Somewhere through the black hole. I know I'll be an angel, Who will sit upon a cloud. At lease I will be peaceful, And it wont be very loud.
