Deep down in the depths of my ****** veneer,
I hear my name.

Do I answer or just stay here nestled in the vapour of Lethe?
Oblivion has merits, concealment of self in still water.

Aimlessly, carelessly swirling in drowsy drug fuelled forgetfulness.
Before we die we drink this water and pass on unhindered.

Ties are undone, people and places, completely erased
to be reincarnated, entering flesh again.

My name again is called, and with this sound comes memories.
I want to stay on the shore of Lethe. But, no.

Selfishness pulls me back to sight and sound
I am dead amongst the living.