O.C. Bearheart

Prayer

Let the future be brief,
Let the ending be swift.
Let my death, my belief,
Be a prize and a gift.
I don’t want to wait
For my dotage and age
To keep me from the Gate,
To hold me in this cage.
Set free my husk,
Lay rest my mortal shell,
A long dawn, now short dusk,
Release me from this hell.
Let them go, I don’t care,
Grant me wings, and I’ll fly.
I suffer from pains I no longer can bare.
Let me die. Let me die. Let me die. Let me die. Let me die. Let me die. Let me die.

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