They say to have a writer
Fall in love with you
So you will never die.
But I say
Seize the love of a musician.
Someone to write you
Into colors in the air
And star-****** behind the eyelids
Of any who will listen
To the tale of you that they wrote.

Musicians, like writers,
Bring light through a fog
With their love-speak and poems.
But music-makers
Can create flowers in winter
And warmth without fire.
Their melodies dance
Over the swish of grass blades
And between the tooth-gaps of children
Whose fingers are sticky
With sweet popsicle juice
While an oil-painted scene
Is painted in your mind.

So be cherished my a musician
And hear yourself forever;
Be sung by a hundred different voices,
Danced by fairies and pretty young girls,
Costumed in dissonance,
Etched into souls.
For you can never really die
When you echo forever in the cavern
Of a good song.

Can I decide,
Or are we chosen for this life?
Does our existence depend on purely the journey we've already taken?

Have we earned this time?
Or did our formers souls fight,
To define an outcome?
A future?
Securing a path to not get left behind?

Do we deserve this right to our human lives?
Have we waited for years amongst the shadows
For the opportunity to shine?

Or have we proven worthy
For the chance of a life time?
To fulfil our purpose, our service,
To make some sort on impact on mankind?



At the end of the road, are you happy to go?
Or are you regretting?
Still dreaming and wishing
You could go back,
Change,
See what you were missing?

But
It's too late.
You've had your chance
So you must wait
As long as it takes
To regain all that time
That you
Lost
Through your life
Because you never tried
To live.