If you die, you shall surely be reborn.
A finger pointing to what? You always
Say these words with seeming knowledge of ways
Divine, but i sense the hollow forlorn
Timber of your voice praying for support
To self existence. You want what again
Comes to be to be YOU! Without this boon
In mind your small now trembles at the root.
As does mine. The answer still unknown i
Think for most earthly walkers will take shape
In all perhaps, or not. But the late great
I continued throughout time seems a lie
To this simple form, that's lit from somewhere to
Cast its shadow on the fabric of you.