Turning,
Dying,
Crumbling,
Crying,
Everything's a world away,
When death creeps up on unbidden wings.

Eyes alight and full of pain,
Glazed in death,
Yet sight unchanged.

All you do is yet foreseen,
And still you seem to have a dream.
In this life of painful crying,
All I do results in dying.

Even this rose,
With petals drying,
Lives between a standstill.
Shining.

Hold me tight and take me flying,
Through the worlds within me,
Sighing.