Or so it seems
It is in the deep darkness of the night,
when all is silent and calm,
is when thoughts come of true reality.
Not the props that we call real when fully awake,
the people we know,
those beneath our concern of course
for our worth comes from comparisons.
Amid the sheets,
we see the abyss that swallows all,
everything we hold dear,
wealth and youth,
and yes our enemies
one by one fall into emptiness
or it seems so.
the Sun we dance around,
the galaxy that is our home,
will one day to be as if it never were.
Length of time matters not
for once gone,
time ceases only silent nothingness remains,
from where there is no escape
or so it seems.
I believe otherwise despite what I often feel,
the terror that screams at me that all is naught,
for an inner certainty stays alive,
I am captured by it's dark presence
though it is truly the light,
the finite blinded by the infinite.