Nothing lasts forever, nothing remains; Beauty blooms briefly then returns to dust. All wisdom dies, undone by foolish claims, And rot consumes the pure, as if it must. I whisper that the world feels retrograde And I see pity in their certain eyes. They claim my mind is lost, my nerves are frayed And gently guide my gaze towards the skies. They give me holy water, though I burn; My skin is scorched by holiness gone wrong. I look towards the gates of no return, But courage fails me when I hear Death's song. I lack the strength to rise and change my life; They taught me how to kneel, not how to fight. Too late, I felt and understood the knife They stabbed me with and called it guiding light. My soul would be much calmer if I tried To bear the knife with modesty and grace, But even though I try, their words collide With the defiance on my tired face. The gates of no return lure me with peace; I take one step, then falter out of dread. What if Death tricks me with a false release? What if what lies beyond is pain instead?
