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A gun-shot;
The last thing I hear
All that I see
Is black

No sky, no sun
Not even rain
I know I’m dead
It’s killed me; the attack

Its not just emptiness
In this hell-hold
I feel frustration
Too

I reach, I beg
I plead, I try to run,
I stretch my arms to
You

But…
I can’t. I’m stuck
It’s hopeless
Trying

Yet
I won’t give up
Though I’m gone and need you here
I will keep you from dying

A guardian angel
Is what I’ll become
And I’ll guide you through
Your life

If anyone tries to hurt you
Or causes you grief
I’ll gladly take my ghost-like form
And stick into him a knife.





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