My life was lost under a shroud of tears, a dismal cover woven through the years,
Growing more impassable with every thread, crushing all purpose with the weight of lead,
With every stitch, another blow, a consistent dampening of a brilliant glow,
Yet all this now seems in the past, with decades of pain changing ever so fast,
With scissors of hope cutting sharply at the cover, with a simple day passing on to another,
Tomorrow this sombre shroud will tear, and I\'m jumping right through on a wing and a prayer.
Whether heaven or hell awaits me on the other side, at least at the end I can say that I tried.