The room is quiet, save for the ticking
The ticking of a clock that won’t wait,
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in,
The words hang heavy in the air,
Like acrid smoke from a chemical fire.
The death rattles of a life cut short.
Corrupted into something it shouldn't be.
You thought you'd have years,
Decades to laugh, to love, to try,
But now the future slips away,
Like old memories in the aging gray.
In the doctors’ eyes. Dim, jaded green,
Unspoken condolences and sympathy.
No treatment, no cure, no miracle now.
How do you hold the thought?
That the opportunities you’ve had,
Will be the last before you sleep?
That dreams you thought you’d chase
Are now only dying stars
Fading, a hundred light years away.
In the deafening silence, you listen,
To your own heartbeat,
Once so loud, now a distant drum,
Beating the rhythm of endings.
There's so little time,
No more years,
Maybe no more months,
Walk outside into that cold winter rain,
Numb to the dissonant emotions,
Your eyes, once bright with plans,
Now hold a certain stillness.
Everything is welling up inside you,
Your chest hurts as if it could burst,
How can it all be over?
How did everything end up like this?
The quicksand of realization,
Dragging and pulling you in.
You only just got married,
You were going to have two kids.
Get a new house new neighbourhood,
With a nice new picket fence.
Will they even remember you?
When the days are cold and nights long?
Once you're buried,
And you're dead and gone.
