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the approach of death
The Approach of death,
Goodbye my fair Beth.
Youth is a present,
Which we all take for granted!
A present not renewable,
Only prolonged!
For when death comes to my doorstep,
Or taps me on the shoulder,
I shall die knowing I was a true soldier!
Watching war,
Watching Death,
Knowing it's my last breath!
Thinking of true thoughts,
Thinking of my Beth
Watching the darkness get closer and closer,
Realizing my time is near,
I will not fear. . .
