Death's own immortal kingdom
Rests on the other side of morning
Its breath rises above the sweet air of living
And it holds us down
Clutches at us through the veil of night
It devours
No dignity
No delusions of morality
There is no remorse
For we must suffer
With every breath we draw from the horizon
We will falter and become prey
To the keeper of our sorrows and fears
Raped of our mortality
Removed from our singing skin
Silent wings unhook our faces
Play with our weeping souls
The unknown is always out there
Reflections and vague guests
Faint visitations from beyond
Unseen by the shackled eye
The shadow we never see
Until it comes for us
Then we struggle and hide
Unable to stand the gaze of destiny
It shatters the glassy substance of life
Yet this transforming power
Digests bone and releases us all
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@Barnowl71
This being, that becomes; from the arising of this, that arises. This not being, that does not become; from the ceasing of this, that ceases.
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