Slowly, my dear, down this path we walk.
Death is cold;
We do not balk.
Death is death
And nothing more.
Slowly, my dear, down this path we walk.
The way is far, but near, my dear.
Death is truth;
Nothing to fear.
Death is death
And nothing less.
The way is far, but near, my dear.
My dear, the way is harsh, but soft.
Death is near;
Holds you aloft.
Death is death
And nothing else.
My dear, the way is harsh, but soft.
Far, my dear, we must go.
This path is long;
No time to slow.
Death is death
And nothing new.
Far, my dear, from me to you.
YOU ARE READING
Forgetting Sylva
Teen FictionSylva lives her life in constant fear of death: not her own fear, but that of the people around her. Frail and afflicted with a variety of different illnesses, she spends most of her time in bed at home, majority of it with her best friend, Marcus...
