The inevitable is coming in my direction,
through my reflection.
Giving me pain,
when there's nothing to gain,
but misery.

The train comes this way,
But, I don't sway.
Death is what I wish for,
But, it is a big bolted door.
One too tempting to open.

I beg for you to stay,
it doesn't turn out that way.
Fore the grief I feel,
will never go away.