I’m staring Death in his eyes.
I watch the world cave in,
drained like the colour from my skin.
Is this real?
Is this really happening?
I used to sing his praise,
but now there’s no sweetness in his name.
He’s been dying to show me to my grave.
Now,
what I see and what I dream,
they don’t align.
Now,
face to face,
my mistakes come to life.
(Will I survive?)
I feel the floor give way;
nothing but he and I remain,
and I see the expression on him change.
He leaves my wrists untied,
offers his hand,
and he tells me to decide.
Now I’m begging him let me keep my wasted life,
please,
it’s not my time.
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