Death, sudden chill
Unmistakable pain of who didn't live as it feels
In the old bed the old man sighs
He is ready to leave, subdued to such lie
He close his eyes
He can see through the grey,
A dark, lonely shadow;
It's death on her way
With bended, small steps
The lady drags on,
She is getting near
Whispering...
Sited in the bed
Her hood takes off,
And in her eyes of flame
Everything is different in a flash
The life he didn't live,
The dreams thrown to the sky...
So much pain in my chest
So much left to die!
With tears in his eyes he listens now clearly:
"Stop thinking, your time is done"