We are born (borne) in death
As one moment dies
Another brings life
And we are here
What we are cannot last
Endings and beginnings
Never to be lived again
And we are here
Reborn in the gaps of time
Only one constant remains
Knowing alone stands
And we are here
In a dying world we live
Both reborn from ashes
Fresh as a rising sun
And we are here
Throw at me what you may
I will smile
I know what all may not know
Twist and bend this mortal frame
I will smile
I am just a scene in your play
The silent author of this act
I will smile
I now understand your game
This role I will gladly play
I will smile
I need no words to reenact
Try harder day by day
I will smile
Broken I will remember
Together we began this game
I will smile
As you raise me from where I lay
A wave rising from a whisper
The dawn of ages given
A sound offered to another
Now death is surpassed
One word carried beyond a life
Lives on in another’s heart
Shared and cherished
Resounding for eternity
You should never be here too much
Be far away without a care
You should never be here too much
In the other place, that no one can share
You should never be here too much
Rest in the void beyond the door
You should never be here too much
Beyond the grasp of wanting more
You should never be here too much
Where they will try to change you
You should never be here too much
Where they force their point of view
You should never be here too much
Forced to see and think like they do
You should never be here too much
Open the door and step on through
Forged in a world of pain
Hardened by life
Driven by greed and gain
And so he learned
Never to be hurt again
Stoic and strong in many ways
But there were some times
Reflecting on some faded days
When it was not so
Bending a knee he often prays
Simple things he wants to feel
The joy of silence
To see what is truly real
Finally understood
There was nothing to heal
Falling upwards a heart will open
Time negates all wounds
The sheer falsity he was fed upon
Worries that never were
Truth is found in a kiss and a song
This one beside me
Cannot ease the pain
I endure the burden’s strain
To ease this mortal load
One would have to know
I would fade in days
My demons rant and rage
As I write upon this page
They try to hide
But I will not abide
Cutting grass, a chore,
Yet it can be so much more
Music in headphones,
Sunlight flickering
Motor humming
Squirrels bickering
And I am in the flowing
Part of without knowing
Muscles flex under load
Pushing as the grass blowing
And still the quiet remains
Among the chore ongoing
I am not the doer
But I am the doing
And it is done, it is always done.
