Sometimes i wonder how i’ll die

Sometimes i wonder how i’ll die. Will it be something quick and painless, or something so drawn out that waiting for it’ll become dreadful and i’ll wish for the darkness to arrive early. What will i be doing at the time of my death. Will i get to know beforehand if my time is near. Cos’ there is nothing more shameful than leaving a task incomplete and still i’m sure i’ll have many tasks before me, incomplete while i leave. Will my family be around when it’s time, will i be surrounded by friends or will i cease to exist in a distant land where nobody would know my name. I wonder if they’ll cry or laugh after i’m gone. Will i go quietly like the passing out of a flame or will i rage and fight like a moth caught in that flame. Will i leave the world a better place than i found it or if i’ll be amongst the nameless, faceless multitude who have lived and died inconspicuously throughout human history.

Sometimes, i really think that i don’t want to die at all (but then who does) and even after death, i want to live in the memories of those who i’ve left behind. I think death is inevitable, and it is too early to think of death, but yeah, i would really like to be missed when i’m gone.

And oh, the fact that when i’m dying, i wouldn’t like to wonder how i lived…