As I sit and wonder, stride and blunder, how should I, live after life. I play here all alone, my fingers keep me company and moan, and how could I, play the end of time.

Over there out in the yonder, do I see my ferry man wonder. Bit by bit, attracted to the sound of it. I play my melody of life and death, a dance of passion in once tired hips. I don't do it for money, nor fame, I do it for the please to see a crow's face smile again. I  bring back life the beating back to the fleeting hearts. I'm life's last smile, before the curtain draws and the passing to anther side, where new things begin, and wicked ones shall end. I conduct a symphony of pain, but a carnival of joy, The sin, is nothing but an illusion wrapped in your head, for I am your keeper, and life is but your prison. Take the time spent in life to learn what value and meaning is, and when you pass over, to see it's not all in vain, to see you'll be happy once again. There is no heaven, no hell, only purgatory to show, but until you release all your regrets, ans sorrows, will heaven will truly appear. God is but your powerful Benin contentious, while your devil is nothing but the trickster  and metaphor of sin. no matter how you slice it, until you can let go of what what's truly holding you back, you're never getting in to paradise. Listen to the keys of the sweet piano, as the softly guide you to the place to from where to start. The retelling of your journey to correct the wrong from wright. To feel your sorry, so save you from the black and take the journey across the river styx to your paradise. 

2 pentz please.

~Dusten Blake Barefoot. 

Side story of the Reaper.

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