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On Mortality

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it came as a jolt
the confrontation
of my own lack for of purpose and direction
I who had accomplished nothing
and seemingly never would

a feared an unused life
one that led to nothing happening
and nothing changing because of it
just another cog in the neverending system which we have deemed society
an elemental fear
over which great scholars had protested and admonished
trying to replace it with some wise saying that would lead us into contentment

it isn't the fear of death
or of being forgotten
or of an endless obscurity
all men die and all men are forgotten
this we know to be to be true

all great men are eventually wiped clear from history
and all great men are sent to death for an endless and cruel eternity
the talented artist
the gifted novelist
and the great leaders,
it was good enough for them
and so it should be for us

yet it isn’t
we refuse to accept this truth
we fear it blindly
for there is no way to see it clearly
but we try to run
or comfort ourselves in some slight way

but sometimes when we do acknowledge it we fade
gradually we end up facing this corner of existence
staring endlessly into it’s epicenter
and are consumed by it
we strip ourselves down to a beast
a sand grain in the desert
and are lost



this void is there
but outside of it are other brilliant things
that glitter in the light like the stars
and heat the earth with an unparalleled force

we live in a world full of color
and art
and glory
that can outshine the greyness of afterwards
if only for the slightest of moments

I do not fear death
for it has yet to pay me a visit
and I do not fear being forgotten
for it has not yet occurred

I know I can do something with this precious time
even if it fades soon after it is created



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