As wounds do heal and shape into scars, So does my mind as I lay under the stars. To think, one day, my heart will stop beating, And some soul will be faced with my distasteful greeting. The warm hand that I often caressed, Will be deprived of life and all of its zest. The bells will chime and my children will cry, Naïve to the fact that someday they, too, will die. This is the life that you were granted, a gift. Why in God’s name would you curse and waste it? Why do cruel deeds mean anything to you at all? Why do you help those who laugh when you fall? There is an objective in life, to make sense of a maze, Not to leave this world leaving loved ones ablaze. If you suck the charm of virtue, you are a dunce, So make the most of your life, because you only live once.