Gone
It's under my bed where the darkness lies...
Scattered dreams of wounded butterflies...
I half awaken to my daunting dawn;
to find my sanity is all but gone...
I stumble through my dream-like day;
trying to forget that you have gone away...
I struggle with my fear of God,
as the reaper gently turns and nods...
So now it's time for me to go...
To sleep on that hill where the tall oaks grow...
Despair slowly exits along with the pain...
And I fade into the day like the whispering rain.
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