You fade slowly before my eyes, once so strong and vital,
now you sleep in your chair,
so tired you say, so tired.
How long will you be with me before you have to go?
How long will I feel your presence, your daily routines,
your rants at things long past, but still alive within you.
Your little habits that I shake my head over, will one day turn into memories.
How long father, how long have we got before you go?
Reminiscence we stir together, another time, those other times we share.
Now in your last days, I watch over you.
You are fading, so thin, so pale, you walk so slowly, stopping to catch your breath.
We are seeing each other for the last time, in the hospital, in our glances to one another.
One day, soon, I will be alone, sitting in your house, listening to the silence,
left by your absence,
feeling to my heartbeat, yours now gone.