when will I die?
what does it mean to be mortal?
is it wrong to cling to life?
at what point does survival become thoughtless self-preservation?
when does love of life become fear of death?
are those who reach old age merely cowards?
how young do you have to be to die 'good'?
and is it only the young who can do this?
how old is too old to die a good person?
how do you die with dignity?
is it through fighting your own mortality to the last breath?
or through accepting the final moment when it comes?
can anyone ever be truly ready for death?
how can life prepare us for the inevitable ending?
how do you live with no regrets?
is that even possible?
are we cowards for wanting to live?
or waiting to die?
do these questions have answers?
will I ever know them?
will I even find the courage to ask them out loud?
or will I be stuck asking them of the stars?
will I be left shouting into the finite eternity of the darkened sky?
will I be left waiting for answers on a moonless night?