Death Poetry

Death. Life. Being. All so important topics. That we go on every day, Without knowing what to say. We just feel alive! We just experience loss... And at these moments, We are in loss of words. And somehow that makes sense. That we stand silent in front of our self. And express what we feel in verse... Death. Life. Being. Does it matter what they mean at the end of the day? All I know is that I feel bad. All I know is that I feel well. (And that these feelings have something more to say...)

Death as a destination. A safe port. Death as agony. Something to be afraid of! Death as life. Part of everything that we love...

I want. I want this. I want that. In a short life defined by nothing else but me, I choose to define me by other things. And life passes by. And when me and death meet, I suddenly have so many things to speak. Things I missed. Things I need. Things I never dared dream. Oh, I have lived so much under the Sun that I am tired. But the Moon is up now. And under light of darkness, I can see. Of nothing of these things that I wanted. Except me.

Change me and I will change you. As well as the cosmos we are in. And that will also change other things in return. That will affect something else. Until the tide of change affects everything. And my new self, wakes up in a new world. To do things under a new sun. In a place where nothing is the same as the day before. Funny. Now that I see everything changed, I feel safe. For everything is dead. And still. The sun will rise again!

  Embryos being old. Humans being born. How can the new succeed what is gone? How can the wise man ever be young once more? How can life be alive without ever dying, how could death die without being alive? Oh, deep inside I knew. From the very beginning, the cosmos was old. (And then, it was born...)