There you lie in your final days In a shroud of whisperéd prayers. Now they seek to ease your spirit's pain, But the remedy is not theirs. As you stare at this gaping void, You sense the end of your Self. You catch your breath and then you bind your fears Against a time of absolute Naught. This cannot be the truth. I refuse to believe. Seek to escape This rotting flesh And justify your fears. You know this is Not to be true, But reality fails on believing ears. You seek the womb Of comfortable lies. Folds of reality Crush you from inside. So enfold yourself in a world of A blissful hypocrisy. To deny and then to believe Shall truly set you free