Hello Sir,
how are you today?
We can offer you
a contract for life,
it's called
Pay As You Die.

You simply pay
in days, weeks and months,
7 days per week
or up to 31 days per month.
Simple as that.

You can also pay in advance:
365 or 366 days per year,
that's not a lot
taking under consideration
amount of time
you'll need to prepare yourself to die.

Also we can, for free,
help you to speed the things up,
you can gain a lot!

Let me know, please
are you okay with this?

Why not?

You can come to see me any time, even if
my waves don't whisper your name, don't call you,
be sure I think about you and remember,
for I am all thoughts and memories of you.  

My waters are always crystal clear for you,
ready for your coming, happily awaken,
I hear someone's footfall in the far,
even if not yours, I keep on flowing.

I flow constantly, even knowing that no wanderer
comes down to wash his face in my stream,
I spring, quietly awaiting for your dry lips.

I spill crystal clear water, not caring about the waste.
Believing, that one day you'll come and I'll refresh you.
That believe allows me to flow nights and days.

I've got a new friend, he is called... I forgot.
He told me the other day.
He said he's got many names. At least four.
He told me how is he called.
But I don't remember at all.
He said:
- Don't worry, maybe it's even better that you don't remember,
don't worry my friend. Just call me a friend.
Sometimes I forget my names myself. Who cares!

My new friend comes from... I can't remember.
He said he was born in one country,
and raised in another, then moved somewhere else,
only to move yet somewhere else.
He told me all these countries names,
but I forgot. What a shame.
I said to him: My friend, I'm sorry, but I don't remember them,
the countries you were born and raised, and the countries
you lived before we met.
But he said:
- Don't worry, my friend, I don't take offence,
maybe it's even better that you forgot it,  mate.
It's fine. Let's forget the past. Let's say I'm from here, okay?
Okay. But...
- No, no but, mate. It's not a problem at all.
Sometimes even me I forget when I was born
and where I lived. Who cares! I don't care myself.
It doesn't matter anymore what's your name, where are you from.
It was never a big deal to me. Never something to be proud of, to brag,
more likely something to hide, to cry about.
I asked him: Why?
He replied:
- You wouldn't wanna know.
I said: I would.
He said:
- Nevermind.

What if death is a pretty girl
with long legs, beautiful curves
and shiny hair?

With eyes like milky way,
with the softest lips in the world,
with a smile you can't forget,
with two sweet fruits of *******,
and body, beautifully shaped,
much warmer than any of the living girls?

What if pleasing is the way she smells
and her moves are full of grace?
What if she waits for you
to make you a happy, not sad?

What if the medieval art bluffs,
saying that she is ugly, scary and without face,
and without eyes and lips,
without nose, smile and *******,
but the cold ***** skeleton?
And that she stinks and she limps,
foaming heaves at the mouth,
waiting for you at the end of the tunnel,
where no light,
to take you in her arms and to kiss you goodbye?

You won't know until you die,
but why not to imagine her
in the meantime, called - life.

As long as you
play dead,
you'll be alive.

They are holding
your pale wrists
tight.

Everyone,
everything
looks suspicious
to me.