My only wish that when I die,
No one around should ever cry.
For I want this world to be happy,
Looking at the baby in a nappy.

For I will in reality not surivive,
They will fight hard for me to revive.
But what they forget is the mortal cycle,
That lives and deeds of past recycle.

For what you reap is what you sow,
Even when you go through high and low.
You think that you have won the fight,
Only to find out there is a grave sight.

For that is the body of your friend,
The one you thought was angel godsend.
She did from the sky for you descend,
But you did her love condescend.

For you made a mockery of her love,
She replaced your life of moves so suave.
She played the role of your sordid wife,
And went on to play her real life.

For now she is dying in reality,
Because she lived a life of conformity.
But her husband had a mortal deformity,
And refused the change to good reformity.

So she chose to leave her legal husband,
Be she her friendship chose not disband.
For he was by far her spiritual husband,
The Prince of her heart from a distantland.

For she was not a girl who got groovy,
But she wrote the part for his sordid movie.
She was the lady what was the friend,
Who became the real ghost in the end.

For she didnot in this plot really survive,
For Archangel Michael did her revive.
For he sent her back for her newborn baby,
Off spring of yes no today yes may be.

She is really living on borrowed time,
All she wanted was a life sublime.
For has lived through all the sands of time,
And paid the price for everyone’s crime.

Now its telling on her reality,
As she dying of physical frailty.
Trying to cope with life’s mortal frailty,
While sending people to immortality.

For she is but the living ghost,
Whose body to spirits plays the host.
For she is but the instrument,
Who writes to open eys of detriment.

For she has touched on your reality,
She speaks of everyones mortal frailty.
For she was by far the cheated wife,
Who walked away from her pain and strife.