To be or to let go
To hold onto what we mortals will
Immortal in our lust to fill
The hole
Simple facsimile of undeaths breeding
It's toll that offers Majesty
Or tragic mystery
It knows not? to fill it will erase
the breadth of that it craves suicide
Dreaded questions demand no reason
It makes me feel alive.
Trick the purchaser of time until
The sums make sense when it fades
The hole of hate