The Boon

I grow old

I grow matured

As this process goes on

I grow fonder to myself

My beauty, my abilities

My credentials and caliber

As one observes their garden

I observe my face my body

Sometimes into the hollow of my soul

I scorch upon finding grays

I shudder watching me wrinkle

And the pain just gets worse

When my memories fade

I would still love you

I would still need you

But what if the last hint of

You too vanish

I would rather pray

For a boon to take my life

While I still know your face

And close my eyes watching you…