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Is death not funny? Or generous? Or romantic? Or vengeful?

Is death not fair?

When artists die they get to be the ones to paint the sky

When poets and writers die they write the thoughts that pop up in our minds

When musicians die they compose the songs birds sing up high

When dancers die they become one with the wind that moves us all

When actors die they turn into shadows that act out every part of our lives

When chefs die they continue to coat our world with the different flavors of emotion

When best friends die they are reborn as brothers in another life

When enemies die they are reborn as cousins or as neighbors, waiting to reconcile with one another

When lovers die they are reborn on opposite sides of the world, waiting to find each other once again

When soldiers die they are reborn as dogs, the loyalest of all creatures that continue to serve their cause

When performers die they are reborn as cats and continue to steal our attention and affection

When teachers die their knowledge is dispersed throughout all their students

When students die they become a sudden burst of inspiration for all other students

When women die they turn into flora and continue to be the beauty of this ugly world

When men die they turn to rocks and earth and continue to be the foundation of this world

When martyrs die they turn into guardian angels and watch over their living brothers

When people die in their sleep they are left dream of everything they ever wanted in life

When animals die they are given their chance to be reborn as humans and live among their masters

When fathers die they watch their children from under their beds and in their closets

When mothers die they continue to care for their children as teddy bears they take with them to sleep

When the meek die they turn into storms that finally release all the anger they kept pent up inside

When the violent die they turn into water, finally calm, only to be disturbed by the meek that they trampled in their living

When the famous die they left are alone with the memories of their fame and glory

When racists die they are reborn as the minority they so passionately discriminated

When the corrupt die they are left in a pit to forever be tortured by the people they stepped on

When criminals die they are reborn as bastards, their dignity stolen from the moment they are born

When addicts die they turn into their vice, to be used and abused like the lives they themselves threw away

When the sharp-tongued die they are stabbed with the words they used to hurts others

When the foolish die only their folly will be missed by those that they've made smile

When the wise die they are forever remembered in the lives that they're teaching and advises have changed

When the brave die they are turned into trees that face fiercest of storms  

When the miserable die their souls are released into the sky as birds who are free to fly away from all their worries

When the tired die they are given their well deserved rest

When cowards die they retreat into the dark corners of our eyes, rarely seen just like in life

When the broken die they are made whole and new and better than what they were before

When adventurers die they continue their trek through the mysteries of the afterlife

When the curious die they are let in on the secrets of life

When dreamers die they're imaginations are turned into stars that glow as brilliantly as they did in life

When dreams die they are reborn in the minds of others

When innocence dies the whole world mourns and grows colder and dark

When love dies even the angels and demons weep

~

But when you die you will not be reborn

You will not turn into another form

You will not live on in space or in nature

Because you are not an idea, or a feeling, or a concept, or a position

You are human

You are mortal

You are skin that covers your entire being

Bones that have kept you up through all the trials

Muscles that you built through experiences

Mind that holds all your memories worth keeping

And soul that encompasses your entire existence

And when you die will be missed;

By your father that felt nothing but pride watching you grow up

By your mother that held all the joy in the world whenever she saw you

By your siblings that looked to you for guidance and care

By friends and enemies alike

Because death is not funny, or generous, or romantic, or vengeful

But it is fair

And unlike you

Death is permanent

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