Death. We can't run from it. We can't jinx them away.
Our time will come. Our life will end.
But will anybody remember you when you're gone?
Is your death only a temporary moment of mourning?
Will they know your existence when you were alive?
Or were you just another passing soul on this world?
I am not yet a leader, nor am I a follower.
I have not created things, nor have I changed things.
I am not an artist, nor am I philosopher.
I am merely lame, dull, and anonymous.
However, I have dreams, and my dreams shall be realized.
I have ideas, and they shall be projected.
I have strength, and they shall be consumed.
I have the will, and they shall fuel my efforts.
Before my eyes turn white,
Before my end is blank,
Before my hands become cold,
Before my feet do not move,
Before my feelings drift away,
Before my spirit abandons me,
Before my bones crumble to dust,
Before my skin is buried beneath,
Before my presence is gone,
Before my name stands on my grave.
I shall give something to the world,
In which I shall be remembered for,
As I rest in peace.