Will the sky cry the day I die,

Silver tears from a weary sky?
Will the earth reach out, arms wide,
And cradle me where I can hide?

Will water whisper where I lay,
Rippling soft like words I couldn’t say?
Or will I be just passing air—
A name, a face, no longer there?

Will someone pause and feel the void,
In quiet rooms we once enjoyed?
Will laughter echo down the halls,
Then hush when they recall it all?

I used to fear the ghosts at night,
Now I long for their pale light.
They seem more kind than those I’ve known,
In their silence, I feel less alone.

I’m too tired of playing parts,
Perfect daughter with a breaking heart.
Too tired of jokes with hollow sound,
Of chasing love that’s never found.

Too tired to wear this paper crown,
Of smiles forced and falling down.
Too tired of this endless fight—
Let me float into the night.

So when I go, let no one grieve,
Just let me finally... breathe.
The day I die, the storm will cease—
The day I die, I’ll be at peace.

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