The Willow

Withered hands grasp an empty hour glass
The sands of time have passed you by
Do not be afraid of the end
I pray it’s but a transitory phase

Behold! The moment of transformation
Take part in the reversal of your creation
Shed life to be born again
Scattered ashes like dust in the wind

As the willow weeps the hand of death creeps
Into your chest and steals your breath
Final exhale takes you beyond the veil
Enter thee and become free