Mausoleum

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.