Even though I've lost the best ones,
To an eternal sleep I've always dreaded,
I must've died a million deaths,
Not one has provided any peace.
They say you are all in heaven,
Watching down, protecting us,
I find absolutely no comfort in this myth,
In my dreams, you're all haunting me.
It's bittersweet, your appearances,
I love the clarity of memories,
The detailed moments in replay,
The best times of my life all saved.
Yet I still wake up in cold sweat,
Sometimes by my own screams,
With tears streaming down my face,
And renewed guilt washing over me.
I'd visit your graves
But to me you're not dead.
You're very much alive,
Torturing me in my head.