My Personal Fall

My life is thrown into flames.
And comes out as dust.
Just lost without a friend.
Is this how all good things come to their end?

There's nothing left.
The moon goes up and the sun comes down.
The wind whistles its faint tune.
The time of my end is coming soon.

Time's running out.
Everything begins to fade.
Not a single sound or cry.
Because the time has come to die.