Image Mirror

Is there anything important left to say? or is everything dust that must be swept away. I saw my death today in my dreams asleep. I awoke to find my broken mind stained the cleanest sheets. Now I'm gone but I'll live on in the muttering of ghosts. You'll hear my song when the time is wrong and your buttering your toast. The other thing is close I'm frozen from its look. With a reapers hood the creature stood reading from a book. His face is mine in this space and time filling me with dread. I want to know but please just go heres a schilling for the dead. I'ts killing my head his voice is just a scream. I think I see him wink at me with eyes a dusty gleam.