I am not yet ready,to taste of death, nor smell its foul, and rancid breath
Slowly stripping the very life, from my human bones, yet know inside
That each man, born on this earth, must die alone, i know not the one
Who penned,''It's not the length of the life, but how well it was lived''
Time may not place  or number me, among the immortals, but  i carry
The knowledge within, that in all of my living days, i gave , and sought
Out love, in this crowded space