I'm told it's just the flash,
the dashing of the dying,
the buying of just one more day
for one to waste and
waste away.

I have hurried,scurried,wanted,worried and to what sad end?
it brings me to and thus I go.
The light lengthens,tightening hands to clutch at me, the
dashing of infinity as it reaches some maturity which quite naturally at the final breath I find,I find the same in me.

From what prison does death set one free?
if prison be eternity in silence will I, eventually see the workings of all there was to be and what then of me.

In this lifting up of space I'm drifting,dropping under and the thunder of my heart becomes a gentle murmur,
A painting?
am I become a seascape to become imagined by the artist Turner?

The intertwining,interlink just makes me think it's all connected as I am too,to what I'm sure will all be clear,
one day
one day
when I am free of external stimuli
one day
one day
when I die.