Thoughts of death shake me, till it brings a tear.

Life so fragile, the reaper I can hear.

He whispers in ear, The end is near.

Real is the fear, that cloud the days I hold dear.

 Nothing comfort’s me, my fait is no longer clear.

 Lord send me a sign, that in death you will appear.

 So I can live peacefully, looking forward to your sphere.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, is this the end of years.

Tell me, will I see my departed pears.

 at me, the thought of death leers.

How do I keep it, in my minds rear.

silence is an enemy, that breads fear.

the sounds of life’s caothic’s, is a blessing I keep near.

for it keeps at bay, the thought of deaths near.

Lord send a sign, that you will appear.

For I am so tired, of living this fear.