Death itself

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Death is nothing to us.

I panic at the thought of dying before my ‘destiny’ is fulfilled

I fear of dying not death itself

For what is beyond will be released from my bounding senses

But to die! ?

I don’t know

I imagine the suffocating craze of my ego

Desperately trying to hang to the last grasp of meaning

As it dissolves into an inescapable nothingness that feels fierce and hungry

Maybe it’s not as dark

and the ego’s meltdown rather feels like a ride from angels

A sweet surrender into a painless warm pool of joy

Whatever it is at the end death is nothing to us.


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