The winner's lose
Happiness descends
Death awaits
Rigor mortis sets in
An empirical delusion
Blinded by grief
The most logical wisdom's
Eventually deceive
At the bottom of ism's
Awaits the final collision
At the gates
Of all that rhyme
A funeral dirge
Reconciled with birth
In the calming state
Acutely sublime
How can the enlightened
Not fear death?
Surely we all
Struggle for breath
Holding life in
As long as we can
I will give you my heart
But only on lend
Perhaps Poet's
Understand the rhymes
Contemplative in nature
Destine to arrive
Removing the blinders
That death is a lie
......................
Traveler Tim
Live for yourself, there's no one else
More worth living for
Begging hands and bleeding hearts will only cry out for more
Neil Peart