Oblivion is the end to a dark maze;

We have to figure it out ourselves.
Find the key, find the door,
And open ourselves up into what lies behind.
The ones who have strategy,
And the ones who are clever—
It’s not just the ones you expect
To find the end of life itself.
The ones that go through with life,
Knowing that they’ll reach this—
This improbable, dreaded fiction.
They may be going into an empty room,
Because we’ll never find the proof
That oblivion is realistically alive.

The maze has creatures, demons—
These obstacles in life
That we have to overcome.
It’s never easy;
There are no shortcuts,
No places to hide,
And you can never stay in one place,
Because the maze is always moving,
And oblivion stays the same.

This urge to find out in all of us,
I’d rather not have the experience.
We’d all rather live our lives,
Without the consent of death itself,
Without the ongoing,
Irreplaceable knowledge,
Without this room of life,
Having us trapped
Until the door is opened,
And without this fear of oblivion
Taking over our minds.