Posts Tagged ‘death’
I will cloak nothing in words
This time around
For this is about how I have come
and to be
and to believe
You notice much of my work
Mentions death
But honestly, my work ends in death, because it begins a life
Proceeds a journey
And that journey ends in death
It is not a hope or a wish
It is not a goal I strive to attain
Eventhough
I see death as a jumping off point, to the next adventure
But that adventure is UNLike those of the LIVING
And if you cut THIS life short
You will realize what a mistake you made, when you begin your next
These are my only feelings on the matter
It is not a question of Heaven or Hell, Pain or Punishment
We make mistakes
Some grave
And we pay for them
And we learn from them
And we are made an instrument through them
For a mistake may send us to hell
But then you were needed in hell, for maybe one needed a rescue
and having been to hell, you now can advise, with surety, those who would attempt a visit
To avoid it at all costs
But you also know, that you cannot change a person’s destiny
For they may be scheduled for such a trip, as were you.
But Hell teaches you to Love everyone
How?
Because after the experience, in your heart, You would not desire such an experience
upon even your worst enemy.
So even if, I know, you must go, I must try to change your mind
But I will not stop you.
And you cannot forbid me to cry for you
for again, I love you
Misunderstand me not
For this hell is just a euphemism or me. But I am like everyone
What I fear most of death is the method.
Will it be filled with pain?
Will it be tortuous?
Will I be terrified?
Or will it be quiet and painless?
I should have died in an electrical accident
As I lay dying, I though of nothing but saving myself
But looking back I think:
There I was, going through it. It wasn’t a bad death. It wasn’t painful and I had no control
That would have been an easy death
And I missed out
Now I’ll have to die all over again
And maybe it won’t be so easy next time
but I think, you know
Exactly what I mean
So I suppose, now, I’m very comfortable with the subject, though it puts many off.
But that is because we are all superstitious and to talk of death
one fears
is to invite him to dinner. But if Death comes to your table, you should treat him as an honored guest
For he is hard working and he does not necessarily come for you when he appears.
Our lives will proceed as they should
If you are clever, you can sidestep that which can be avoided
But to cut time off of your journey HERE
Will only lengthen it THERE
For our train will arrive on schedule, come what may
So think not ill of me
For I am not morbid. I cannot remember my beginnings
I can only look to my next beginning
And that can only come after death, which is no more or less important than birth
But I understand
For like all great journey’s
We hate to see them come to an end.
I am Called Ded
Dead
I am Called DeT
Death
For that is my name
And when man met me
For all my power there was and is one difference between us
As Man passes on
I am constant
AND SO, man took MY name
For man can only describe himself in the things that he is not
And I am like a Universal Totem, in which man can say what he is not
and thus he may know what he is.
But man was told not to fear his passing
For the soul is everlasting
And I and man share a bond and friendship that is everlasting
But like the Children of Atlantis
Time and complacency has made my name a terror.
My name is spoken with fear and remorse
Though many still know the way
it slowly becomes lost.
So when I return it will not be to bring destruction and fear
but I come to reacquaint myself with man
so his fear will be alayed
And my name can be spoken through lips that smile and teeth that grin
For as each of you pass
I gain a new friend.
I view the exchange as even
But many see things askew
since we are raised from a certain point of view
and in this, wherein Ouroboros bites Her tail.
@
For to bear a child is to enlist a life long ally
in which to love
And where reciprocation is as death
And of this ilk can numbers be bore
Multiply more and more
And there will be no shortage of man
For which, a seed can be sown
Rather that man be high or low
He alone cannot wholly contain the capacity of his sperm
It gives him pleasure without measure, infinite like the Gods
Even when the effort is small
It nearly drives the species to heights quite tall
@
The feeling is intensified as the circumstance becomes more bizarre
This is where men try to hide who they truly are
But our writers and recorders never lie
in describing what manner of beast, fish or fowl in which man is urged, on top, to lie
Prohibition drives the urge ever greater
But what follows is guilt and shame in nature
Man will issue seed and nature will decide in which thing it shall be sown
And Herein lies the curse as Ouroboros tastes his tail.


