Death is a sensitive matter, which is a dark and gluttonous hole, eating the happiness of loved ones;

this drowns the ones we most dearly treasure in sorrow by the tons.

Though, life moves on we shall always live in the memories of those who did care;

however some of us had no one, leaving our souls suspended in limitless despair.

Some of us are able to move into the afterlife without a hitch,

but some of us have unfinished business in this life leaving us in a mourning ditch.

Those of us who die with a scowl,

fly free as an owl.

Though, when we die with a smile

we remain happy for a while, making us versatile.

Coming to an end like it may, how life always must;

life is short, live it to the fullest or you may become dust,

or maybe, struck with misfortune you may be cleaved by a dull blade, leaving blood as but a crust.