Post by danielazarc on Mar 5, 2009 6:12:04 GMT
I care as much in death as I did while in living,
I have found that this life is so much unforgiving,
I wander the earth and the sky and the sea,
Not sleeping, not resting, not caring to see.
The world is the same as before, I took breath,
Now I see through a veil like a fog after death,
The world is beheld a cool blue, almost viral
While above the sky stretches, a ghostly black spiral.
Yet I care not a bit, I have nothing to fear,
I miss not the laughter, the cries and the cheer,
My heart has been taken as though by a thief,
I recognize this, yet I still feel no grief.
I wander my home and I glance at my friends,
I think not about all the refused amends,
They remind me no longer of who they once were,
All memories from my past life all a blur.
So I tell you now, as death will sure come,
And as you grow cold and your feelings grow numb,
There is not a heaven and there is no hell,
Forever forgotten, here always you’ll dwell.
-----
Originally started as an assignment for class, it turned into this. The prompt was to write from the vantage point of your own self after death, what you saw and felt, and what you could tell those who were still living. Oddly bleak, but then again, it was from the 'Death and Grief' chapter. ;P
I have found that this life is so much unforgiving,
I wander the earth and the sky and the sea,
Not sleeping, not resting, not caring to see.
The world is the same as before, I took breath,
Now I see through a veil like a fog after death,
The world is beheld a cool blue, almost viral
While above the sky stretches, a ghostly black spiral.
Yet I care not a bit, I have nothing to fear,
I miss not the laughter, the cries and the cheer,
My heart has been taken as though by a thief,
I recognize this, yet I still feel no grief.
I wander my home and I glance at my friends,
I think not about all the refused amends,
They remind me no longer of who they once were,
All memories from my past life all a blur.
So I tell you now, as death will sure come,
And as you grow cold and your feelings grow numb,
There is not a heaven and there is no hell,
Forever forgotten, here always you’ll dwell.
-----
Originally started as an assignment for class, it turned into this. The prompt was to write from the vantage point of your own self after death, what you saw and felt, and what you could tell those who were still living. Oddly bleak, but then again, it was from the 'Death and Grief' chapter. ;P