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Gone.
Gone, withering,
 Now I feel every time I breathe, 
 Sickness spreading.
 My life is a gift from He.
 A great blessing from God to me.
 
 Now I can’t think,
 About anything else but dying, 
 Leaving this brink.
 Death blackens all my reasoning. 
 I pray I am imagining. 
 
 Now I can dream,
 Of a field of no more worries.
 Each step I scream, 
 Let me live for one last ice cream.
 Now I slip and it fades; the gleam.
 
 Now I can see,
 My Earthly distress has now ceased.
 I feel so incredibly free!
 My heart misses not any pieces,    
 Bar those that grieve the death of me.

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