(Im)Mortality

I've lived a dozen lives, can't say it's really worth it.

I've died a dozen times, and every one was perfect.

Soft and sweet like baby's breath,

I find my peace in the endless depth,

The calm embrace of a silent death.

It's the only thing in life that's certain.

Living is the hardest part, dying is a breeze.

And when I finaly do depart, I'll find other worlds than these.

Through time and space, through the infinate,

Ill just exist with no significance.

Death is promised, but never permanent.

I may be gone, but I swear I'll never leave.

We run to and fro, like little ants, eyes constant on the clock.

And when we go, we are so surprised that the world refused to stop.

Our persistant need for validation

Is just an exercise in ego masterbaition.

With no deeper sense of self-realization

That mortality's a croc.

As we go into the deep beyond, well past this mortal coil

We will be free and can abscond with our worthless mortal toil.

Becoming one with the abyss,

Joining in one consciousness.

The only constant to exist:

We are beings truly made immortal.