In the end,
We all descend.
From their on out,
No one can hear us shout.
We leave this place,
Going somewhere with lots of space.
Though some go and some stay,
We all can now have our say.
I know it's funny now we are dead,
Being heard with nothing said.
But it's quite easy,
Being heard by some who feel uneasy.
But for some it's a spark in your ear,
That's an indication a ghost is near.
They speak calm soft words,
They sound like the song of the birds.
Though some are good and some are evil,
They come from different times modern and medieval.
But we all find the light,
Even if its morning even if its night.
We all find our way back,
Even if the room is pitch black.
The light will still show,
Now we are at peace and we can go.
But in the end...
We always descend...
