What lies beyond this last breath,

But emptiness and regrets?

Those memories, hard to catch;

Those petals… still as my Death.

In the echoes of church bells,

So many tales yet to tell –

Of the times before I fell,

Of the times when all was well.

Triumph wilting at the Gate,

To rest gently as my Fate.

Daydreams, laughter of an Age…

To be forgotten today.