The Funeral

Little lillies before my eyes,
Sing to me sweet lullabies.
The heart is here for you to take.
And when it ends you'll find a wake.

A single tender tear you shed,
As He claims me from my bed.
Softly floating through the air,
Drifting here, drifting there.

Ghastly horrors I might find.
Staying here is not kind.
Though leaving isn't special either.
At least I won't be a glider.

Within the worlds, there is He.
Watching us so easily.
With every start
We must part.

Though only a sole leaving
Many souls are grieving.
Sadness before broken skin
Loses a special meaning within.