When you died;
Everything was different.
How I moved, thought,
And saw the world
Changed forever.

A switch went off in my brain that day
and a fog machine turned on.
And as I try to walk through daily
I become disoriented,
Stumbling through the best I can,
As the machine continues on.
But the fog is getting thicker;
And It’s getting hard to breathe.

I’m starting to get scared,
That I’ll never make it through.
But I’m even more afraid that
Once the fog clears,
There is nothing but dead air left.