Oh how I wait for the day,
In which I sleep eternally,
With not a single vanity in my dreams,
For I no longer be living.

What is it about death?
That scares mortals,
That converts non-believers,
That brings tears,
Is it a joke?
Is it a game?
Is it a gamble?
No, it is a necessity,
For without it there would be over-population.

Soon I will join a list,
Of names that meant nothing to humanity,
People who once was and never will be,
I start thinking,
Would the world be a better place without me?
Would anyone even think about me when I'm gone?
Can everyone move on in their lives?
Useless though it may be,
Questions like these hound my mind.

Fear of death,
Everyone fears it,
From beggar to kings,
Except me,
For somehow I felt complete,
As if my purpose in life is a completed task,
Now I may fade into oblivion without regret.

To my dear reader,
Never try to delay death with wealth,
You are just wasting your time,
Prepare yourself and the people closest to you,
For the Reaper knocks on everyones' door.

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