The end without an end
Everything that I am
will end with the realm of the dead.
Say I’m wrong if you will
but it comes down to what one believes.
Tales and fables I have listened,
reached inside me just to question –
Do I really have a soul?
Finding meaning of it all.
Too much fear of the unknown
makes one mutter and crawl.
We all have our building blocks
to create the rules we live upon,
to build the world which we can rule,
holding strings we dance upon.
In the latest hours,
thoughts and feelings come to howl,
things we don’t dare to think about,
hunt us under the shining stars.
So much time is wasted on sighs
upon what will happen when we die.
Almost like it’s meant to be
when we die we’ll actually live.
Dust in the wind is what we are,
a pile of molecules waiting to part.
Thoughts and feelings,
all that shaped us,
is what we will leave behind,
from this world when we part.
Strings of unique energy
vibrating on sole frequency,
leaving an indelible mark
in the vortex of all life.
It’s not the place of judgment and fear,
the valley of pleasure, or cell of monstrosity.
A place that has no name,
but a feeling that we’re finally there.
Love and pain together suddenly make sense,
“The big picture” is seen in perfect clarity.
So no, it won’t end
not with the realm of the dead,
for that is just a fable to control
that which is neither mine nor yours.
Everything is but an energy,
a particular kind of frequency
that carries the lullaby of our soul
when we finally leave these shores.