This final time

head held in the palms of hands,
there hurting coverd with open soars and blisters,
my mind plays games im sure i am going mad,
i try to keep myself above cold water,
I do not know how many days have past,
all i know is this will be my last.

oh how my heavy head feels within my grasp,
the last thoughts of life causing its burden,
there were many things i was sure id say.
as i lay alone in the darkness,
ever conscious of the coming of this day.

my daughter how i have lost her,
though it was not from being here now,
she had grown older than my years,
surpassed me ten winters past,
came accustomed to her fears.

well i pray this reaches her,
and she knows that in last breath,
i say to her i love you
the doorman has come to take soul,
a resting place awaits or so im told
my sweet sweet child