The Dead Tells No Story

When the soul wind Still flies about, Life seems so precious And un-ending. Tales of life's friend Told everyday, But hearts which still have The soul wind switched on Forget in a brief, Not until... Not until Darling soul wind ceases, When tears lovers releases For that heart. That moment when sands are poured And you can't do nothing, I wonder what would have happened If you still had that soul wind. But here is the moment when all things blackout! Or whiteout? Well, I've not been there So I sure can't guess which, But i'm certain one day, We all will. When? How? Where? I do not know. Thence, I must live right So my story could be told. Cos the dead would be there To tell, not even the name.