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I Was Well-Meaning, In Truth
I'm not afraid to die,
But I sure as Hell am
Afraid to stop living, to cease
To contribute and comprehend and communicate.
If all good things must come to an end,
then can I at least be allowed to endure
The bad and in-between things? Those are just as good.
I couldn't care less what happens
To my physical remains,
So long as my spirit and heart are
Carried on by my loved ones.
If there are always going to be
Missed goodbyes, can I have some New hellos, instead?
They're more exciting, anyways.
I'm not overly concerned with possibilities
Of the the Devil and Damnation,
Satan and God would be equally
Lucky to be graced with my presence.
If disbelief is truly a grave sin,
Then will my soul be weighed down by that solitary offense?
It was well-meaning, in truth.
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