The Lake

The dying rays of the sun kiss the lake with crimson lips as I take my final breath. The last sip from life's rusted cup will certainly seal my death.

The glinting blade that's in my hand I hid safely beneith the willow will help me with the final leap as leaves replace my pillow.

I am not afraid of deaths imbrace as many often are because the kiss of the after life will uncloak lands from a far.

Will God accept or deny me? Will Jesus the Sacred Lamb? This is the prayer I send to Thee, please accept me as I am.

The blinding sun has fallen, the winds whisper her good bye. This is my chance to do the same, the sky's break down and cry.