Death Bed Poem by Heather Schroer

My love, he lies alone on his death bed-
I can not bare to see his dying face.
The witches spell has caused hid bleeding head-
A prayer to God is his hope of grace.
His sorrow sunken eyes know the end of
It all. As his life slowly passes on,
He knows he will receive laughter and love
From his loved ones will the day he is gone.
his time is coming faster now like sands
In an hour glass. Faster. Faster. His soul,
Like dust, will sweep across the liv-ed lands.
As death nears, my heart to an endless hole.

Now, years later, I'm strug-ling to survive,
But without him, I am buried alive.