Forgotten

She begs for her life in her dreams,

But I do not comply,

For I know, deep down in my heart,

That she deserved to die.

And so, day by day,

I imitate her daily tasks,

And then I'd go to somepony of which I would ask,

"Why did you let him do it, let him do it on that fateful day?"

Of which they'd give me a puzzled look,

and then walk away.

Then, I stumble back to 'my' house,

And sit in a chair,

And then I'd be thinking of her,

While I fumble with my hair.

Then she'd say to me,

In her own subtle ways,

That she'd forgiven me,

But she had numbered my days.

So that, when the time was up,

I would suddenly fall,

Then she'd remove me,

She would make her final call.

I would be sent straight back to Spirit's Row,

Of which, then I'd realize,

it was my turn to go-

-Go ,-go,

It was my turn to go.