Mantle

Birth opens the gate of death
Between the sentence lies the path of life
Traveled by all sentient beings
All are born
All will die
The unnamable state determined by illness
Stockpile of gathered karmas
We must pass through this enviable state
Feeling that something is oddly off

In extremis believers
Surreal, poetic flaw

Terrifying, fascinating, magnificent mystery
Everything achieved ten thousand years ago
Dictated on a snuff tape with a conflicting end
Impenetrable, forbidden vest of lies

The sounds and smells that made me forget
A cheap solution to block our regrets
Sailing alone the frozen rivers
Surrounded by legions of souls
But yet all alone

Trapped within this solitude world
Haunted by memories of foretime
Running miles with nowhere to go
A meaningless life, a Broadway show

Screaming for help, does anyone hear?
Echoes in our heads, what does serenity mean?
Hope is an illusion, an optimist's prediction