When we die,

Our spirits run free,

But I ask,

Are the heavens really our destiny?

Four years later,

Crying in my room,

Lying on the floor,

Creeping up is doom.

When you left me,

My mind collapsed,

The cripple who is whole,

Wasted,

My last chance.

Once for redemption,

Once for show,

Did you ever love me,

I think I should know.

In the stars above,

I long to be,

But then what if,

I Am wrong to believe?

What lies past my door,

I can only hope,

But is it light,

Or death and remorse?

Heavens are dreams,

Dreams are in our heads,

So where do we go,

When we are dead?

We dare not go down,

But when six feet under,

What are our chances,

Of flying with lighting and thunder?

We have an expression,

Of only reaching the sky,

But we've been past that,

So where will we lie?