This day is distinct from any other day. The sun shines but it's light smearing crimson over the innocent skies. The wind blows but has the scent of rotting flowers. This is not like any ordinary day. I just know deep in my heart that spring is no longer coming for me. What lies before me, I can no longer see.

With the blowing of the last winter breeze I dance with a lovely smile upon my face. I smile my last smile as the willow tree. I sway my last sway as the willow tree. I weep my last tear as the willow tree. I whistle my last whistle as the willow tree. I have found myself aged by the years. And learned by the many songs of the seasons. I have seen people both miserable and joyous pass my unmoved path. And today, I stand my last stance, as sturdy and bold as always. The time. It is time for me to rest.

This I have to say, the anticipation of death is far worse than death itself. I felt death is coming for me, then I give it my loving embrace. Fare thee well and I shall see thee fairly soon.