Good things in life happen when you are six feet
under; buried and long forgotten. You ran the race, finished it in time and
what is awaiting you is a better spot in paradise. You’ll sit next to angels,
singing praises as you reminisce a life well spent on earth.
The cemetery is where we frequently visit, trying to
pay respect to our beloved ones who left us. They are the fallen soldiers. A
century passes and they become our ancestors. We were made from the mad; in the
same made we will be buried. Why fear death? You should also fear existence.
When I die, I want my art to be preserved in a
museum. I also want my body taken to a Mausoleum. I must live a legacy behind
for me to be remembered. I must live differently; strive to change the world as
I make it a better place. Babies born in the month I die will be named after
me. This is to make them walk in my footsteps; make them complete what I began
and perfect all my achievements.
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