My Final Day
The flowing grains of time are rough, like sand paper, tearing at my bones. Leaving me with nothing more than a few malignant groans. But as the fire in my eyes slowly turn to ember, I look back at what I had with a mind much less limber. My soul bewitched. I wish I had taken time to enjoy every single stich. But my life's tapestry has come to an end and the edges have begun to fray, but I chose to remember you on this my final day.