Do you want to give back what were given?
Something so precious you might not be forgiven,
Is it that you think the end is at your door steps?
The pain rising higher and higher like the sea,
Panicking as you try to breathe,
Struggle as you fight,
Inside you feel your fear growing.
"Back to the Father," you say,
Closing your eyes, darkness creeping onto your cold skin,
The final moments in your life is ticking,
As you are just there waiting,
The chilled air you feel to the bones,
Shivering in the dark, feeling only the cold,
The struggle is over, no pure feeling,
I wish you would stop thinking of the ending,
Your breath cutting short, a pain in your heart worse then ever,
In your mind regretting, finally choking down the truth,
A glow from not afar, reaching down to where you are,
The touch of the light seems to give warmth,
Spreading through your body, the pain is gone,
No more panic in your eyes, a tear or two rolling down,
There is a voice that tells you, "Return to me not for it is not your time,"
Then you finally open your eyes,
Finally seeing, finally believing,
Living another day as if it were another beginning.
