Happiness is the art of dying

Happiness is the art of dying. Seeking solice in death and dreams of death and the many grand ways I could die. I do not want to die in bed with no one watching over me nor die without having the memory of the trials and pains and disappointments to prove it all wasn't worth persevering for. I know I will die without a grudge because death is the greatest gift to bestow on a clear mind yearning for rest after taking a wrong step in time.



I won't mistake myself for finding similarity with peers who leave because of great sadness and as to why, I don't think I have earned enough credit to warrant wearing those royal golden shoes. Those shoes will take the wearer to a beautific place and as to whether they lead to the same place I seek for answers, I do not know.



Answers. Time after time will show me the hands I unknowingly gambled upon.