Imagine one last story book, br One more chance to read how we lived; br Die how we lived. br As time destroys everything around us, br Still the book stays calmly, br Carelessly, mounted on a single shelf. br Imagine the last chapter, br A monument of a marathon, br That hurts not to run; br That brings us nowhere. br The dying pages of an authors last hopes, br Put to paper by the very pen he died upon; br Lived upon, wrote upon. br Imagine one last sentence, br A dying wish, a pleading wish br Of peace and forgiveness. br For the world is dying all around, br And still the book stands.