Albert H. Munhall died while serving time in Federal Prison. Prison is a place where many find something within that they did not know was there. In Alberts case, he found a method to paint a story and emotion in words. please read his thoughts, and injoy the emotion they reflect.

Angel Of Death

By Albert H. Munhall For Michela

ANGEL OF DEATH Hello my friend, Ive been thinking of you.
I'll be thinking of you when I draw my last breath .
A beautiful view for the Angel of Death.
Everthing that lives in time must die.
But not the beautiful friendship between you and I.
there comes a time when everything ends.
But not for us , because we are friends.
Friendship is something you must not squelch.
A friend is a gift of love you give to yourself,
IN your eyes I see a lovely scene,
in the beautiful color of emerald green.
I now take a step back in time;
when youth was there and the world was mine
to another place , write another line,
from my memories of another time.
Don't feel sad when the end is near,
it's just part of life, there is nothing to fear.
For on silent wings she will be here.
When I go don't weep for me . For I don't mind,
the Angel of Death is not unkind.
Remember me as one who gave,
and smile for me when you past my grave,
Death as strange as it may seem,
is just a part of a distant dream.
Because there is a bright light at the end of the path
where friends meet again and smile and laugh,
I wonder if this is my epitaph
written part way down that lighted path

The Eternity Run

By Albert H. Munhall

When my time on this earth has come to an end
don't be unhappy for me.
I'll lose this life form but my spirits set free.
So put my Harley Davidson in the hole there with me,
because it has a spirit just like you and me
Then my bones can turn back to dust,
my spirited Harley will turn to rust,
but that won't be the last time that you hear from us.
We will be in the rain cloud that settles the dust.
I'll be the lighting you see in the clouds.
The noise that you hear from my cloud
won't be the thunder, my pipes are just loud
On a clear day, we won't be around.
We'll be gone on a run with some brothers I've found.
When your riding up there, we will have no need for cash
theres a fluffy white cloud where you bag your own stash.
sometime in the future , when our spirits are free
come go on a run with my brothers and me
Don't be frightened by the noise you hear in the clouds
It's not really thunder, our pipes are just loud.
Its just me and my brothers going out for a ride and have us some fun
Cranking those spirited Harleys for the eternity run