Bert Bell - Precious Time

My time has come; I lie and wait for death,
The morphine drip no longer kills the pain
I have to fight for every shallow breath,
My wife is softly whispering my name.

Her heart must ache to see what has become
Of the powerhouse she married years ago.
For now she only sees a heap of bones,
It's killing her to see me suffer so.

I try to say 'I love you' one last time,
The words don't come; she whispers 'I love you, '
And then she says, 'Don't worry, I'll be fine.'
I try to smile, but I'm not sure I do.

'I'm ready for you death, why aren't you here?
My wife is ready too, why make us wait?
Come for me now, I've not a thing to fear,
St. Peter's waiting for me at the gate.'

'And Lord, I trust you'll take care of my wife,
By your Grace through faith we've both been saved.
Ah, Jesus, here you are to end my strife;
Goodbye my dear, I'll see you at the grave.'

Bert Bell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/precious-time-7/