Past

Dying slowly through the eyes,
Silently and blind.
Felling weak and sleep,
But also feeling kind.
Peeling back the pages,
Of the past I once did lead.
People say it wont happen to me,
And these words I did believe.
Now I close the pages,
Of the life I once did have.
But when you are still lying there,
It makes you feel so sad.
People think that when you die,
It is all dark and dull.
But I know there is a heaven,
Somewhere through the black hole.
I know I'll be an angel,
Who will sit upon a cloud.
At lease I will be peaceful,
And it wont be very loud.