Let the mist wash away,

All my memories of memories fade,

Let my dreams push away

All of those dusty shimmering gleams.

Tales told and tales spun,

Tales withered lost in conundrum,

Mist still flitting,

Thoughts still flying,

Fast above my head, just out of grasp.

Waiting and watching, arms held high

Sitting waiting, for what I know not,

This is what it feels like to die.