With only a scarce amount of time left, Aging Abigail Alzheimer, Lay upon her death bed.
Looking back at her eighty-eight years, Briefly, becoming eighty-eight Prolonged seconds.
The hot sun, Brought warm feelings to her mind, Comforted by, Pleasant memories and prosperity.
The sky gathers its Gray clouds and heavy rain, Open feelings of desperate despair And letting loneliness sink in.
In a brief moment, Transforming Shining tranquility to Somber depression.
She silently, Slipped away, Guided by the good Lord, she so loved.
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