Every night, the heart wants to stop,
To quit everything and just drop.
But every morning, the mind stays firm,
To keep fighting amidst the storm.
Truth is, the body has long been dead,
But the soul keeps saying, "One last dance."
Either way, the body keeps flirting with death,
To hold it long enough for a tragic romance.
But will death fall in love, or leave behind,
A pile of dust, a broken heart.
One that with a freewill to live and die,
Circling around the horrors of earth.