If I felt there was no reason in being,
I would have died a long time ago.
And in such thoughts I relinquish,
my immortal soul.
For here is where I'll be remembered,
this is my coffin inlaid with jewels.
And those who do not perceive this,
are merely the giftless fools.
For in my speaking lies the truth,
the simplicity of the soul.
That may rise and tumble,
and in me bound and grow.
For I am an intensity of love,
never ending as the stars.
A universe all ourselves,
creating galaxies afar.
And I am not begging perfection,
I am still incomplete.
And that is why I write this down,
for those to understand me.
But maybe this is my punishment,
for things I've done in another time.
To be forever mistunderstood,
by those who are of my kind.
And now the bards no longer sing
so beautifully, in unison with the spirit.
And how many have strove to ponder,
that vastness held within it?
And spake these lines that show my soul,
carved upon stone in blood.
Read my eulogy of a forgotten world,
that sung the arts of love.
For the burial tomb has been removed,
the jewels laid within, are gone.
And now that remains are nothing more,
than dirt and bone.