I feel your hands crush,
Warm and tightly grasped.
My flesh turned soft mush,
Time continued lapse.
My sight does not blur,
Only fade to think black.
I was never sure,
Was this an attack?
The bright, golden light,
Ushered to the gate.
I had lost the fight,
Now to except fate.
From there I fell,
To my proper hell.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
I feel your hands crush,
Warm and tightly grasped.
My flesh turned soft mush,
Time continued lapse.
My sight does not blur,
Only fade to think black.
I was never sure,
Was this an attack?
The bright, golden light,
Ushered to the gate.
I had lost the fight,
Now to except fate.
From there I fell,
To my proper hell.
