Life begins when you first look upon
Something vastly superior to yourself.
For what is it to be
When you’re but self-contained
And your scope reaches not past your nose?
It’s only when you stand in the wake of magnificence,
That you’re forced to take heed of your size.
Life,
This life,
This live we’ve been granted,
To some is a dream
To others a nightmare.
But to me the true terror
Lies only in the persistence of slumber.
If you’ve ever seen that one certain thing
That thing that finally opens your eyes,
Then you might just know what I mean.
It’s a beautiful affair to be alive.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 8:48 PM UTC
Life begins when you first look upon
Something vastly superior to yourself.
For what is it to be
When you’re but self-contained
And your scope reaches not past your nose?
It’s only when you stand in the wake of magnificence,
That you’re forced to take heed of your size.
Life,
This life,
This live we’ve been granted,
To some is a dream
To others a nightmare.
But to me the true terror
Lies only in the persistence of slumber.
If you’ve ever seen that one certain thing
That thing that finally opens your eyes,
Then you might just know what I mean.
It’s a beautiful affair to be alive.
Request permission to use this poem