Death is the end of dying but should be the end of living. Then again, it may be the beginning of both or neither; let's face it, none of us knows shit about death.

Dreams of Death

Somewhere outside deep in the ground
There lies a body that's never been found
Silently staring through hollow eyes
With fleshless skin and dirt for a sky
Lying and rotting, just wasting away
Soon to be one with the dirt it lay
No one will know I ever was there
No will know, and no one will care.

~Blackheart: Love is a Whore By Vincent Triola