When I am old and on my deathbed
And my lifebloods slowly drain
Will I sigh for all the lost words?
Will I tire of sounds of rain?

When my last breath rattles from me
And my spirit sings refrain
Will I think of rhymes of Rimbaud
And words cried out in pain?

Will I blow the ashes outward
From the coal fire of my life?
Will I still recall the lark song
And the beauty of my wife?

Or will time erase my memory
And replace where I have been?
Will shadows fall against me
Will they give me back my sin?

Sweet words from winds of wonder
Blow softly at my door
They speak of times of yonder
And offer something more

If shadows cast against my soul
From flickered flames of time
Begin to fade and with them go
The freedom of what’s mine

Then cast me on the firepit
Crack my bones against a stone
Deliver me from evil
Of what I can’t call my own

When life is but a whisper
Of what it was before
Take this poem to be the answer
And lead me through that door