A poem a day - Death

Death has been time unconscious

An existence that needs reason to be oblivious

In a vessel that fails its hold

On mother nature’s cycling folds

Death is where the vessel’s purpose is

Formed by chemical reactions of natural progression

Leaving fantasies bound by limits

And souls dreaming pass their limitation

Would it be possible

Just wishful thinking

For emotions to be manageable

In a flowing way like drinking

For emotions are what causes death

Its existence, effects and feelings for rest

But I guess that’s where hope lies

Decieving or being truthful, depending on one’s eyes.

Death can be in many ways interpreted

But in words it is an ending of a sentence

An ending of a stanza belated

Simply a quiet pause, , and it is eminence.

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(Is there existence after death? Simply do your best!)

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