Dying is Free

The river runs red,
Yet it flows like the sea,
The movement has left and the body is dead,
The darkness is the only thing to see.

Bruise after bruise, fighting to stay alive,
With each new wound, leaves more concern,
Dying but, smiling just to help others survive,
The body feels cold but, by touch it starts to burn.

Slowly fading, fearing that the soul is already lost,
Crying out, desperately making a dying plea,
Taking this lightly left this deadly cost,
Dying is the only thing that's free...