Lying in an open field, sun high and bright,Dying and wasting away beneath the light.
Seems the most pleasant way in which to perish,
While my life seeps out in pretty pools of crimson.
The pain is terrible, the shock setting in,
Yet the sunlight calms my troubled soul,
Providing some relief from the chaos,
My fear of the unknown...
In delirium a light smile plays upon my lips,
Though I'm not completely sure as to why.
Still, I sense a symmetry to my beautiful demise,
Instilled with the notion I'll soon be at peace.
The Sun, the birds and trees.