I wonder what happens when I close my eyes for the last time? Will thick fog fill the room? curiously Will I walk hand in hand with the reaper, through twisted gardens of flowers wet with due. Drop off gray lit roses at my tomb? Will soft dim lights of crimson blue greet the nighttime hue. You’re arms may be stretched out to me and home I’ll be. Such surprises await me when I finally close my eyes. I can’t wait for my last time.