Beatting.
Inside of us.
Beatting.
But it will stop.
The terror.
When it stops.
You may cry.
You may scream.
It is always different.
The sorrow.
The fear.

When will it happon to me?
Why will it happon to me?
I do not know?
Please not let it be soon.

Beatting.
For a set amount of time.
But sometimes it changes.
It ends before its time is over.
But why? Why? Why?
Please do not leave me soon.

I love you.
But you left.
Please do not leave me here alone.

I love you.
Please do not leave me again.
Forever.
Till ever.
I will miss you.