Cinnamon Miller

1995 - 2009

The Last Battle

If it should be that I grow frail and weak,
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
then you must do what must be done
For this, the last battle, can't be won.

We've had so many happy years,
What is to come can hold no fears.
You'd not want me to suffer so;
When the time comes, please let me go.

Don't grieve for what I must do,
I've enjoyed my time with every one of you.
We've been so close, for all these years;
Don't let your heart hold any tears.

Today I must say goodbye to my friends.