Often I wonder why we strive to live.
When death seems a more simple route to go.
For what instinct instils in us to give,
Into this desire to fight on to know.
What lies beyond the abyssal threshold.
From whence there is no coming back, once tread.
The secret kept closed, until the end told,
Through a veil unseen, the truth is then shed.
It takes a bold and courageous person,
To live, and to know they are yet near death.
And those around see their health fast worsen,
Feel great loss within, at the man's last breath.
Short time, it is only, I know inside,
That we shall see them where great ones abide.
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