Say What You Mean.

Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.
And I never see my old friends face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.
And he rang mine but we were younger then, And now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
‘Tomorrow’ I say! ‘I will call on Jim
Just to show that I’m thinking of him.’
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows. Around the corner, yet miles away, ‘Here’s a telegram sir,’ ‘Jim died today.’
And that’s what we get and deserve in the end. Around the corner, a vanished friend.
Remember to always say what you mean.
If you love someone, tell them.
Don’t be afraid to express yourself.
Reach out and tell someone what they mean to you. Because when you decide that it is the right time it might
be too late. Seize the day. Never have regrets. And most importantly, stay close to your friends and family, for they have helped make you the person that you are today.

My Destiny

In the darkness,
No one can see your tears,
In the darkness,
No one can see your fears,
In the darkness,
There is no one to love you,
In the darkness,
There is only sorrow with you.

To seek and found a reason to be,
To hunt like a hound, your destiny to see.

My only love, once found, now lost,
For my cowardice, that was the cost.

Inside my heart, to pieces, I am shattered,
All those pieces, in darkness, now scattered.

To seek end in the dark,
It is my destiny,
To weep alone in the dark,
It is my destiny,
To die all alone without your love,
It is my destiny.

The Hour of Death

The hour of sad memories,
Brings back the happy few,
And the moon shines as a quiet breeze,
Her mellow light through the dew.

Night salls with the happy thought,
That I might live ’til morn,
With God’s protection, without retort,
Without contempt or scorn.

If my soul he should take away,
And to His bosom hold,
Its only then that I may say,
The hour of death is gold.

It’s gold for I am in God’s arms,
In Heaven’s quiet calm,
Where none beg from others alms,
In blessed quiet, away from harm.

And so, now that the time has come,
When I must surely die,
I’ll surely try to be at home,
For the hour of death is no lie.