Why must one such as I,
live my life with fear,
the fear to unjustly die.
It is not what you first hear,
I do not fear lack of breath.
I am worried about dying inside.
I do not fear eternal rest.
I am worried for my broken pride.
I lay in pieces on the floor,
with lack of peace to be found.
And I hope for you to open my door,
I wish you could gaze upon me downed.
I miss you away from my side,
and generally away from my life.