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.