On my last breath of life, I want my eyes to be given, To the one who came with none, And want him to see the beauty, Of the Dale, Moon and Sun.
On my last breath of life, I want my power of speech, To be given to the silent mouth, And let him compare his voice with silence, And let the world hear him clear and loud.
On my last breath of life, I want my power of listening, To be given to the impaired ears, And want him to hear the beats of a heart, And the gentle sound of falling tears.
On my last breath of life, I want the remains of myself, To be burnt till the ashes survive, And let them be scattered in the air, To let my memories come back to life.
