(no subject)

[a_silent_yell]

Here I go,
I'm drifting into my dreams.
A veiwing of mourning, under the moon.
Will someone miss me when I parish?
The name carved into the stone,
will it be remembered?
Will my body rot,
with it my soul.
The pearly gates,
Accept or deny me?
Ever direction I take,
starts with fog.
Is it right? Will I make an impression?
Or will there be.
A mourning under the moon,
with an unloved body rotting.