Death’s Cold Mist.
Think of me.
In case I go
Some dark horizon beckoning
For some days it comes closer
But my heart is always with you
Even in deaths cold mist
My memory fading
My words becoming fainter
… with my voice
My image with you but my touch no more
… upon you.
But still I will be with you
Whispering faintly my endearments to you
Echoing in corridors of your mind
Think of me in that light summer breeze
Think of me as it gently whispers in the trees
I leave you.