Man was made in our image.
With innocent eyes that sought lights embrace.
And nestled in the arms of darkness.
An empty abyss who couldn't help but stare back.

Man cried till he was content.
And his heart did grow through the suffering.
And he came to know happiness as well as sadness.
But his eyes, they spoke with love.

Man walked his path under a forceful guidance.
And he remained ignorant to the suffering of his bearers.
Fighting ensued as man found comfort under the many stars.
In the field, he fought alone against the sun and the moon, and he lost.

Rage begat man as he learned togetherness and separation.
The beautiful flowers flourished, and he felt himself no more than a lone dried ****.
So, he cut those flowers and boiled them to see how they taste.
Now, only a desert remained as man boiled each oasis.

Man ate and hunted every animal.
He used the streets built by others and ate the meals he begged for.
This lone warrior stared back into the abyss and saw light within himself.
The strongest man he knew was his darkness alone, and so fought him and lost again.

Man could no longer force his guidance on the world so for the first time, his angry heart steadied and he listened.
And man looked back to the loved ones who perished behind him and cried till he was content.
He slowly memorized each grain of dust that made up every little thing. Starting over again and again.
Eventually, his heart strengthened and pulled him to the shores of Nibana. And he was alone. And he was satisfied.

On this day, man closed his eyes and writ this poem.
A poem made only with his heart that he could never have envisioned with his meager skill.
But his heart that knew darkness, its light is refined and built up a little each day.
And his rest is well-deserved.

Even if the reason he's alive, is safe and satisfied with another man. For dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.