I feel the impending darkness, shrouding over my inners.
The skeletal hand, moving closer, silent, uncaring.
Close enough to touch, but unable to change it's course I stand here numb, unabated.
Waiting with baited soul, waiting for the world of pain to arrive.
The storm is there, huge and dark, I can hear it's terrible call.
Uselessly I scream out and grab onto the white bone, unable to change it's destination.
Here I wait, knowing what is coming, feeling totally helpless, but not alone.
I hope my grandpa can last 7 days, I would love to say goodbye to him in person.............