You live where you die 
and die where you live.
You give what you've got
When that's all you have to give.
Don't be afraid to feel like a star looks; so light, bright, high as a kite.
And remember if you feel someone's bite is worse than their bark, the bark is usually worse than the bite.

"I'm too afraid to die but in too much pain to want to live.
So tell me, what do you do when you've given all you feel you have to give?
"Just live."

We live in war
But die in peace.
Doesn't matter if your face
Is full of wrinkles
Or caked in grease.
We live in war with ourselves
With emotions
And strangers
With finding hope
When every corner you turn
You only find a new danger.
But death is proof that war can end
So don't give up.
Stay strong, and know that you won't break if you bend.

Time heals.
Time bends.
Time gives us chances
to make amends.
Time gives.
Time takes.
In time, we learn from our mistakes.
For a time you'll live.
In time, you'll die.
So make the most of your time.
Don't be afraid to reach for the sky.

Is this how I die?
Walking mindlessly, with fury pulsing in my veins, clouding every instinct, every flicker of logic or reason.
Only the sounds of my footsteps, the cracking of sticks beneath my feet.
Voices from every direction, and when I try to follow them, they go away.
I try to walk in a single direction, but every side of me looks the same—grass, trees, mountains, sky.
And somehow I've walked in a perfect circle, even more lost than before.
Getting deeper and deeper into the unknown, thinking only of the reason that brought me out here in the first place.
And soon, the reason has escaped my mind altogether.
And I am left feeling empty, confused, raw.
My heart pounding in my chest as I look around, completely lost and alone.
All because I let my horrible emotions take the reigns, walking me right into a trap.
A trap at my own hands, all my fault.
Tell me again, is this how I die?

The streets were bare and the moon was out.
Stars shined in the blackness of night, and the little girl held a candle.
A dull candle, with no fire giving it burning life.  
Her hands trembling in the cold, every breath she inhaled a wave of ice.
Her lungs straining to keep up the rhythm.
In, out. In, out.
Her hands shaking, her body trembling with fear of the great darkness.
Memories of the warmth she once felt tore her heart.
A bright fire once flickered on the wick of the candle, but the flame vanished in the wind.
The howling wind that came that night ripped the life from the candle.
And left the little girl to shiver in the cold, all alone.
Her eyes pleaded to all that walked by for a flame.
The warmth they felt stirred jealousy in her heart as she thought of the fireless candle.
A candle was all she had.
And without warmth, soon enough she would freeze.
Her eyes already drifting shut, her grip on the candle weakening, her heartbeat growing slower.
And people would shuffle past her and gasp, but continue on.
Nobody would help the poor little child that was dying in the cold.
For all she had was a candle.
And what's a candle without a flame?