A Stoned Walk ON MY DEATH BED

Passive, my eyes are closed and my hands are cold,
A light is shining in the corner of the room,
And shadows are dancing alone, but lively.
Voices coming in and out, names to the anonymous,
It's all a trick now.
Never moving an inch, my body is spinning,
Colors floating around, and I'm holding a nonexistent hand,
Bodies intertwining with the universe,
Living is a blessing; Death is a curse,
And I'm alone in this purgatory,
Walking without feeling.
Placid silence surrounding a stilled mind,
The calamity has ended, and I am free,
Stoned to the extremities, by the extremities,
Grant me this pure hindsight,
Watch as I pass from your grasp to Death's,
His bony fingers locking to my hand,
It's a "Hello-old-friend" feeling now. 
Walking with him in the afterlife,
He shares with me this painkiller high.