Sing to me the rhapsody of death,

As the poem and all lexical of living are now unheard.

A mistyped in destiny, tattooed on my bloodstream.

What should become, halted. Swim away.

The cheers from greeting angels, touched by the melody of heaven's harp.

Am I there yet?

A one-way ticket, of a call to be with the one whom I called home.

Is it the time yet?