Live a little or die a lot. The choice is hours.

I heard death had a name, but I forgot what it was.

She's my pride, my winning prize, always a surprise, to look into her eyes, see her free soul, as soap that slips from the grip of control; a stroll through the park on a dark night with stars to spark the sky, heaven with no price tag I realize, love is the same: endless, priceless, full bliss; to have this princess I pinch myself thinking this is a dream, but to my reprise, I can only say I am now, at last, alive.

Why when people are on their deathbed, they finally come to terms with life?

Death always has its finger, in the hands of life.