Like an old forgotten book on a shelf
Waiting to die in heaven, a place too far

Waiting To Die
I stand bright in my conceit of victory
There is nothing of the taste of defeat in my mouth
Only blood and the ruin of life
In my heart and in my soul I shiver
In the brightness of pride in the folly of conceit
I made a mistake
Fist and boot and weighted rod
Broke my hands my feet my conceit and pride
I did not scream
I did not plead or beg
I slipped away inside
Waiting to die
Like an old forgotten book on a shelf
Waiting to die in heaven, a place too far

Roy E Edwards