To die well is to live well
As if Death could whisper in my ear, “Tell me dear, how shall we meet?”
And I’d say, “If I must meet you, then wait, will you? Wait till the moment my shoulders relax. Wait till the burden has lifted and the fire has dwindled. Come only when I can look at you and smile, embrace you and die.”
A life lived for me
Is a life not lived at all.
A life lived for a cause,
Is a death worthy of that cause.
As I race against time, I will meet you sweet Death, but until then hold off, I have much left to do.