Under this dirt, this stone,
Lies a lifeless body, all skin and bone.
But think not that life from this body has fled,
But only of the joyous life he led.
For life, with all its pain,
Has numerous beauties, like that of the rain
Beating down on the scorched earth,
Or holding a loved one by the warm hearth.
He shall miss these indeed,
But this, his last wish, do heed:
When his name again crosses your mind
Strive diligently to some beauty find.
For that was his creed for living life:
To find beauty out of pain and strife.
Nay, I told death
You shant rob my breath
Nor steal my mind
To leave not behind.
I'll carry on though it spite you.So draw a pact
To show the fact
That this we know
Then make to go.
Death wont have me so easily.
I'll carry on though it spite you.