To die well is to live well

As if Death could whisper in my ear, “Tell me dear, how shall we meet?”

And I’d say, “If I must meet you, then wait, will you? Wait till the moment my shoulders relax. Wait till the burden has lifted and the fire has dwindled. Come only when I can look at you and smile, embrace you and die.”

A life lived for me

Is a life not lived at all.

A life lived for a cause,

Is a death worthy of that cause.

As I race against time, I will meet you sweet Death, but until then hold off, I have much left to do.