One day when you are gone
the world will defeat me,
the heart will bleed me,
leave me barely breathing,
not wanting the new,
but sorely needing
a final rest,
and I will sleep
the last and emptiest of sleeps.

One day when my skin
wrinkles and crunches,
when my chest forgets
how to rise and only falls in,
I will close my eyes
never to rise again.

One day after much is lost,
after siblings and friends pass,
and I am the last poet,
the last kind hearted prophet,
I will let my breath rest.
I will let my heart stop,
letting the end start
till I am a part
of the age old cycle.

But for now I am
going, going
going on
till all else is gone.