I have not lived
enough,
Perhaps I wish I was
an immortal,
Like a bird soaring
high,
Visiting each dreamed
point,
Resting and testing
its beauty.
Someday, all of a
sudden,
When summons of death
knocks me,
My soul shall walk
towards it
And I shall be gone.
Many secrets are to
be revealed,
Many oaths to be made
And many dreams to be
dreamt,
Before death swallows
my presence,
Before I fade into
nothingness,
Yet when death comes
like
And uninvited guest,
My life shall stop
like
Stopping a pen on the
comma or semicolon,
Never being able to
reach the full stop.
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