If I am to die today
At least it won't be in vain
So long as I look through pale skies
Of blues and grays

Segregated by what is real,
How I feel,
And a little mocking jay.

Days of blissful laughter
Grow longer over time.

Time.

Time. What is "Time"?
When is it MY time?
When is it my time to rise,
My time to look
Past the horizon,

My time to bleed,
My time to die?
Will I see the other side?

Did our ancestors weep
Ghostly tears, live in famine,
Only to watch bastards
Hide from dastardly fears

Scribble hymns and requiems
In beaten journals, stained
And spoiled by ludicrous hypotheticals?

Could they hear a bleeding cry
Through roaring thunder?
See tears through blinding lightning?
Did they see the other side?

Who am I?
Such a question belongs in the gutters
Accompanied by those
Bearing answers.

Open the golden gates
For I demand entry!
Will his majesty
Like me?

Unlikely.
But at least
I'll go out truthfully.

Hush little mocking jay
For your chirps won't be
Heard much longer
As I drift farther
To the other side