The day I die, the sun will rise. It will be cloudy, or it will be rainy, or it will be snowing. Somewhere, a baby will be born. Somewhere, a couple will begin a life together. Somewhere, a solider will die in his duties. A bird will sing, and a thunderstorm will flourish. Somewhere the grass will be vibrantly green and lush, and somewhere the sod will be barren and dry. Somewhere planets and galaxies away, a young boy will ask if his world is alone in the universe.
And as I draw my last breath, and catch my last view into the starlit night, I'll look with questioning eyes towards the wet moon, and the moon will shine back in all it's dull splendor.