The unknowings of the darkness scares my soul.
It's not eternal sleep, but eternal nothingness; no feeling, no air, no thought,
It consumes all, but gives nothing in return, but fertilizer for the mother that is slowly dying herself.
Without a better place after the last gasp for breath, what is there? The mind is forever lost with no knowledge of its misplaced thoughts. All things worked for, the struggles, pain, emotion, hatred and love all become extinct and wasted on a life no longer alive.
All things accomplished and achieved through wasted time no longer mean anything.
Unfulfilled dreams die along with the cage that kept them prisoner, hidden and
trapped away from the world to forever be the disappointment that eternally
eats at the decomposing corpse.
Memories of a life go untold and forgotten, maybe not instantly, but in time all things become forgotten and nothing faster than an insignificant being.
But all things, great or miniscule, become insignificant once they no longer contribute life to the world.
To think one will be remembered and forever lived on through the minds of their loved ones is naive for the simple fact, death isn’t far from those same loved ones.
Death takes all memory from all people leaving any recognition of your existence erased from all mankind in very little time.
Death masquerades itself as an escape from the endless imprisonment of monotony, but is truly the grave robber that not only steals your riches, but your heart, your body, your mind, and your soul, leaving you with nothing but a rotting pile of useless flesh forcefully shoved back into its original mothers womb.