Final Whisper

You must pardon me my long face in the sun and my rainy attitude of despair, it is the only way I know to get along. I try to demonstrate traditional stoic values of self-denial and keep all the pain within, but it's just another thing I've failed at again. I want to be fearless at the doorstep of death, take no consideration for my final breath, but I'm certain I'll be squirming like a worm. I hope devoutly in Jesus, Buddha, St. Francis, and Mahavira; I try to keep my hands from injury to others. I presume death is the end to this accidental life but I maintain a candlelight glimmer of faith in reincarnation heaven. Will you be concerned not to see me tomorrow at our usual spot? You can be assured I'll appear before you at least once more before the final whisper is silenced.