This is not a meaningful existence,
at least until you pain it until the end,
you were born a star and then your light faded,
withered and cold, dawn hadn't risen.

But, although leaves on a tree fall,
cometh the spring when they all...
and the hour of your departure,
pinned upon someones cabinet,
God taken the hand that bite.

Transitioning from one existence to another,
so little lost yet so much gained,
where ever you are,
let it be sunshine all day.

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