I envy the dead,
Souls drawn close to the veil,
Ghoulish it sounds,
but what it must be to finally know
If we are dust from cosmic eruptions,
or placed here by hand to grow.
I find a deep curiosity,
That pushes these thoughts,
Though atheism in my gods,
I can’t turn my mind to stone.
I’m malleable, like mercury in palm,
Scared to fade into the dark alone.
Do they depart from this world?
Or fade into the night’s light?
Is there pain or comfort?
I like to think it’s a river,
Softly flowing the departed body,
To a place full, like a quiver.
I envy the dead,
Not for escape’s lure,
But for the peace that arrives,
The questions finally answered,
All hard work now done,
No chance for devious chancer.
Perhaps there’s an after,
Or maybe it’s like a long before,
One that swiftly came before birth,
How did we arrive? We can’t remember,
In life, we’re extinguished just as fast,
With that, we must truly surrender.
Leigh’s Chaos 