I can't wait to die.
To see the great beyond.
To know what's yet to be known.
To see what can only be dreamed.
I dream of stars,
and of places,
far beyond description,
leastwise to be spoken by me.
And I reach,
day by day,
to the places,
that are purer then thought.
But only thought is produced,
Because only thought is imagined.
Sometimes, despite the fog,
I see reality as it is.
As a place that is more real,
then the stones we walk upon,
that is more a part of ourselves,
then the lies we tell each other.
I find truth,
and it calls,
and it asks one simple thing,
to be told, to all who dare listen.
Hear my cry,
oh sad and joyful,
oh dead and living,
oh hurt and whole.
The world around you is right,
if only you look around.
Do not despair at death,
But welcome it as a friend.
However,
untill that day claims your soul,
or claims thy hollow bones,
Remember why.
You dared to live,
and fight for every moment,
as an explosion,
rather then a whimper.
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