Those infamous last words
were said without anyone hearing.
They weakly fly in the wind,
as weak as my heart beating.

The tombstone is set.
My grave has been dug.
No one for a last kiss,
no one for a last hug.

The pain became too much to bare,
but I don't cry. Instead I laugh
for I'll soon be set free from this chain,
and you'll be reading my unwritten epitaph.

I'm still laying in a hospital bed,
plugged to instruments keeping me alive.
It's the only link you left for me in this world,
but I'm ready to cut it with my knife.

My pulse is fading.
The warmth is escaping.
This life is over.
Home-run's the next swing.