Die with your boots on, charging injustice, reformative guns blazing!
Live longer; rest more; die with your slippers on.
We live short and die long.
The soul softly slips down death’s swept scape.
It’s easy to live; what takes a lot of work is to die.
We die when we despair, live again when we hope.
To live, to die, perhaps to wake — now there’s the hope.
The dead rest, in memory’s soft nest.
Live close to those who live; die next to those who die.
To cry, to why, to live, to die.