As i wait, behind my door
the clash of storms
on rocky shores
takes me away, far from here
to a grave, not yet mine
but not yet yours
to a grave
nameless,
with bodies knee high
and rising,
yet falling
as a wave in a storm
the end waits below,
yet the death
waits above
with a loaded gun
coming for me,
soon at my door
while you wait
far away, with my body
as in the land of souls
people die
all of us do,
as well you,
He is just not quite
at your door
