I always have a fear of loosing Love ones. Even if I don't want to see this happen, I will have to face the bitter truth sooner or later.
An African who loses the ability to die with dignity is a lost man.
Thus spake brave Horatius, the captain of the gate. To all men upon this Earth, death cometh soon or late. And what better way to die, than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of ones' fathers, and the...
Mama, I love you and miss you so very much. The absence of of your physical presence propels me further into understanding the spirit. I am inspired to be aware and mindful of everything around me bec...
He would not now conduct little Nell to the coast; he would not convey her by a steamer to Port Said, would not surrender her to Mr. Rawlinson; he himself would not fall into his father's arms and wou...
Our existence comes with Death. And it comes with suffering, death alone is not enough and pleasure have consequences. wicked and fucked. love comes with hurting. And having means losing.
it is sad to fill a grave with a person full of potential yet completely emptied of anymore possibility to try it once again.
No one dies pre-maturely. As is meant, happens naturally.
Deep down a broken heart, all the sadness one can bear is misery.
It is no use dying, before one does.
Many African societies divide humans into three categories: those still alive on the earth, the sasha, and the zamani. The recently departed whose time on earth overlapped with people still here are t...
Just as when we come into the world, when we die we are afraid of the unknown. But the fear is something from within us that has nothing to do with reality. Dying is like being born: just a change. -...
There will be no beautiful widow with Persian eyes sitting at your grave. And teary-eyed kids won't be asking: "Papa, papa, can you hear us?
Death is the destroyer and giver of sense.
Im dying everydayMy breakfast are cigarettes and coffeeMy lunch is depressionMy snacks are regretsMy dinner are memories and angerMy night is non stoping tearsSleep is my deathWaking up the next day a...
Here now in his triumph where all things falter, Stretched out on the spoils that his own hand spread,As a god self-slain on his own strange altar, Death lies dead.
Warm summer sun, shine brightly here, Warm Southern wind, blow softly here, Green sod above, lie light, lie light, Good night, dear heart; good night, good night.
When you loose someone untimely; all left is never ending guilt, fear, and pain.
She wasted and grew so thin that she no longer was a little girl, but the shadow of a little girl. The flame of her life flickered so faintly that it appeared sufficient to blow at it to extinguish it...
How nice -- to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.