I looked at all I have done. What have I completed to prove my success? Or is success measured? What is it I leave this world? A world that denied me. A world that saw me as no more than a bastard son.
Am I the product of this world? To it indebted ? Or is my soul my own? To be as I will, Or do I have will at all? Only bound by the laws of a world that is dieing in it's own decay? Or am I more than this world, unbound by the strings of this life, or death, depending how you see it?
Cast away your fears my child, For you are not of this world. That is why you are the bastard son. For you have no place here. Your home is farther than the mind can think. For in this world you are bound in contempt. Only in death released. Pray the day comes quickly as the pain of this world shall try to entrap you. Hold you to the cursed darkness of the dirt your vessel was made. Yet your soul has been forever and shall ever be. Still as was before longing for the enlightment that only comes with death.
Why do you fear death? Knowing you are forever.Should you not rejoice in the leaving of the dirt in which you were formed? For what is the purpose of fearing that which has no control over you? Your body is only that shell you picked up to use for a while. What a glorious day when reunited with the souls you met along the way. To pass to the new life. The real life. Where spirits breath in light of the soul eternal.
For I am or at least I think I must be. As was, is as was before. And I seek the path holden to that truth.For in truth my life endures. Even more so abundantly.
Originally Posted On Site: 2010-08-04 06:13:36
Last Login: 02.09.12
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