Death, the only fact

We are too full
Full of conceptions and ideas
God made the sky big
And yet we make it small
Too small, too small
Only missiles and nuclear bombs
Too big for a thousand birds
And too immense a space for a million songs
God created us alike
And yet we live in war
Too distinct, too distinct
Only bloodshed and sorrow
Too impossible to love
And too arduous a task to resolve
God made us feel
And yet we think
Too harsh, too harsh
Only judgments and despise
Too burdensome to forgive
And too hard a temptation not to fall
God gave us death
And yet we are running away
Too afraid, too afraid
Only empty hopes and escapes
Too scared to not be known
And too frightened of the great unknown
There is nothing but death
Death cleanses us all
We die today
And we rise anew the next day
For the new won’t rise
Unless we are first dead.

-THE END-


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