Swerving,
Left lane then-Right
on time to my own funeral...

Headlights fly by;
Flashes of light at this speed.
I'll tell myself not to cry,
and finally concede to this universe's greed.

Swerving,
Right lane then-Left
all my wishes behind. In general,

I'll say I've found the place
in which I can finally breathe.
One-hundred mile an hour pace,
and finally with gritted teeth;

Crash.