Looking at the windows
The reflection of myself I saw
Ran my hands across my trapezious
In my head are pains like sting claw
Sat down helplessly in weeks
Terminal I think, slow as it eats
Tomorrow fades as they grow
Low lights at pupils, sun running low
Sitting at the end of the world
Steering at coconut trees' den
Held on tight to it's children
A love at a tender age not of blood
As they grow old they fall further
She let them fall despite the love
Cries as life does to everyone above
And death laughs as he eats another