When death greets me after my final act,
He will offer a warm smile,
And lead me by the hand.
He will bury me under the old oak tree,
The moon my final view.
I will be buried beneath the autumn leaves,
The leaves a lullaby under the stars.
No regrets,
No guilt in ending the play too soon.
My life was cold,
But the leaves offer warmth I’ve never known.
And when Death buries me beneath those autumn leaves,
I will be granted the rest I deserve
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 5:11 PM UTC
When death greets me after my final act,
He will offer a warm smile,
And lead me by the hand.
He will bury me under the old oak tree,
The moon my final view.
I will be buried beneath the autumn leaves,
The leaves a lullaby under the stars.
No regrets,
No guilt in ending the play too soon.
My life was cold,
But the leaves offer warmth I’ve never known.
And when Death buries me beneath those autumn leaves,
I will be granted the rest I deserve
