As I lay dying.

When I leave,
They will be left in despair,
Mournful bereavement it will be,
No longer will I sit and knit in my rocking chair.
To them my passing will be as cold as a white winter day,
The once joyful ponds filled with life,
Fish, otters swimming about,
Now covered in Ice.
Silent,
I will go without a sound,
Happy that I am to soon see my Lord,
My loved ones, possibly those I once abhorred,
My life was full, and warm as a hot Happy summer day,
I did all that I could, I was not perfect, but forgiven,
 Thankfully for my sins, I will not have to pay.
My King, did that for me,
Oh how He loves me,
Oh I love Him,
Now, no longer,
Will I sin.
Happiness, Love, no cry of pain from yonder.
I am home.