The question is not when we meet our end,
but how, and how does not mean what you think.
Should it be fought, or welcomed as a friend?
To that I say, live to the very brink
however you have lived to now.  Each one
who walks though shadowed days finds their own pace;
some stride, some cringe, some stumble, others run.
What each can handle is what each will face.
If talking seems to help, then speak.  Or you
might soldier on, clad in your armored will.
No one can tell another what to do,
just what they've done, for better or for ill.
The path, if smooth or bumpy, is your own
and should you choose, you need not walk alone.

Dropping down now to my knees, screaming from inside these prison walls of this mind of mine to be free from my insecurities...

Have awareness
in life's pursuits
know the doors
that lead to fruit

A garden of lies
and wolves around
beware the desire
of material lusts

money, praise, holes and cars
millions, houses or vacation

All the clocks that are owned
The only time they've ever told
As long as the day is old
Temporary

From the start of the day
Until the hour growing late
The only sound that they make
Temporary

As the seconds unkindly tic
Every minute that we live
Hardly can get used to it
Temporary

With no way of keeping up
This timeless ticking of the clock
Whether or not you've had enough
Temporary

With every seconds timeless tic
Opportunities often missed
In this life that we live
Temporary