My own Epitaph
Something I think I will have someone write fore me on my tombstone when I am gone from this world into the other. For ones journey never truly ends, it only begins a new chapter
I, who lie here, was a writer
Of pain, of sadness, and of love
Telling what it truly meant to be a fighter
But now, in rest, I sail the heavens above
If by chance you, whose heart has traveled untold miles,
Happen to recall my long written words with even the faintest of smiles
Then my weary soul can at last contentedly sigh
For then, I did truly never die.