In the mute hours, when the world is still,
A dream takes place against the will.
A soul in pain, yet full of care,
Whispers soft, a silent prayer,
"Let me not, in my final days,
Become the burden that love betrays."
They watch the faces, weary and worn,
Of those who’ve loved them since they were born.
The hands that hold, the eyes that weep,
The heavy hopes that cut so deep.
And in their heart, a wish takes flight,
To leave this world without a fight.
Not for themselves, but those they love,
They dream of peace, like skies above.
A passing soft, like morning dew,
No burden left for them to view.
“If I could go, like whispered air,
And leave behind the love we share,
I’d take the pain, the weight and the tears,
And spare my family all their fears.”
Each moment feels both sharp and slow,
But in their heart, they only know
They wish to free the ones they hold,
From watching me struggle the hope grows cold.
“I want their smiles, not just their grief,
To give them some quiet relief.
To slip away, with gentle grace,
And leave no shadow, no empty space.”
The dream is light, but heavy too,
To leave without anything due.
For love is all they want to give,
No mistakes left for them to forgive.
In my dream, they rise like air,
Free of pain and free of care.
And in my passing, leave behind,
A love that heals, both strong and kind.
Vriddhi