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As I lay, so I shall rest. Ten feet under the ground. |
| I’m not old, But my body is withered. Small and broken, I rest in this bed. Days pass as I lay; Faces come and go. They look but they do not see- I am slowly deteriorating. Monitors sound, Beep, beep, beep- The sound repeats. Weeks have past, I’m still here. My mind does wander; Sanity is no longer mine. Months go by, The visitors have stopped But you remain. Hold my hand; Soft lips press against my forehead. Unspoken words- I love you. As my eyes flutter, I take my last breath. Hands entwined, Loosened grip. Body goes limp. Your face, your tears- My last memory. |