We die everyday,
Slowly but surely we sink into oblivion
We are so many things at once
Yet all die eventually,
All die, and they are replaced by different things,
So that we become different,
To the point where we don't even remember
Where it all started,
Or where it will end.
We go toward what is unknown
The cold darkness that
Is a lack of consciousness
The inabililty to understand
The world around us any longer.

I am walking on a path,
The surface of it rubs against my feet like sand paper,
Water is all around me cavering the path and lapping at my feet,
Making it so cold that I almost can't feel them
Yet there is always some kind of awareness that says
I must have feet because I am walking.
I grasp onto a skinny smooth railing that floats above the path,
It is my only source of sanity,
And, in itself, could be considered a reality.
There's nothing to see
But the railing;
The angry white tips of tiny waves that crash
Over my feet and the edge of the path
They line the path,
I can see them until they disappear into the dark.

Fear is my only companion.
Another constant to join the white tipped waves and railing.
I have nothing here.
And yet it is all I know,
For what is a human's progression through life
But the following of a path that seems to have no end
And holding tight to the aspects of our lives that never seem to change?

There is no beginning or end in 'life'
And we have little understanding of how we pass through it,
We wish and hope and dream
But do we really know why?
Do we really understand our desicions?
Yet does it even matter to understand anything at all?

We all die
But we don't know why
We don't understand
Why the path never ends
We always yearn for more
But we don't understand what it is we yearn for
We walk on in isolation
Waiting for the end with infinite patience.

We all die
And there is no reason
No answer
To the why.