unbirthed

I love the quiet of the night time
When the sun has drowned in a deathly sea
I can feel my heart beating as I speak from the sense of time catching up with me
The sky set out like a pathway,
But who decides which route we take?
As people drift into a dream world,
I close my eyes as my hands shake and when I see a new day;
Whose driving the same way,
I picture my own grave..
Yes, this fear's got a hold on me