Of death and dieing…

I've always been fascinated by the subject of death. Not so much the act itself, but the subtle message it passes across. I'm constantly amazed at how people associate death with the extremely negative, yet like Tu Face said, "Nobody wan die but dem wan go heaven".

Amazing.

So, death. What does it mean, really? Is it just the end of life as we know it, or the beginning of another? Is it a reminder of the fragility of life, prompting us to live better lives, or an annoying fun police prompting us to enjoy every teeny weenie bit of life before he comes for us?

I believe in the Christian belief about death. But most importantly, I view death as an ever-constant reminder that we should live our lives ultimately to lift up others. And when we do die, we will be judged by how we lived. Our names will either live on or die. In this case, death is the ultimate test of life.

As usual, another poem, a distraction from all the heavy stuff.

Untitled.

Man was made for joy and woe.

So said the poet of years before.

'Twas rightly said,

For now I know:

Man was made for joy

I was made for woe.

In the darkest night shines the brightest light

Yet beneath the light lays the deepest fright.

Thus begins my journey

And my plight:

Will I make it

Through the night?

Don't fail me now, O gleam of hope.

Let me not fall, let me not grope.

I know I'll yet drink from that well;

I do not know, I cannot tell.

I'm standing tall, I'm lying weak,

How do I find that which I seek?

Man was made for joy and woe,

I'll find my joy, for man is woe.