T'is the dead who speak
For it is they only who know the voice
that howls,relentlessly biting at their very soul
No respite given
no boundaries of decency acknowledged
Yea, it is they only who embrace tight the stench
Who else would know her scent
but they that are adorned with it
and wear it as a badge of honor
having no other choice
No quarter is given these,
who linger upon the razors edge
It is these who herald to the living
This potent message
That life is uncertain and short!
Therefore t'is he who dances with death daily
Who signals in dark glitter to all
That the wise man drinks rich the day at hand
Not presuming
he shall drink again on the morrow's dawn
For the morrow no man owns
Passion, love and dreams
are to be embraced, not thwarted
Love is to be sought unto death by all
It remains our soul's breath
if we are to ever inhale pristine purity and peace
T'is love that remains worthy of our lifelong pursuit
Lifes messengers today who daily walk amidst death
Alert the living to live and drink fully from the goblet
of hope, love, dreams and passion walking tall
Let none thwart, hinder nor tamper with such things
For it is these things that braid our life in rich happiness
Yet one must must chase their dreams or they will die in
sadness untold
What remains therefore are these
love, dreams and passion
May we chase them hard
Till time is no more.........