In pitch-black rooms were shadows are cast-
With futures so black they can’t see their past,
Surrounded in nothing, with only self to amuse,
Where there’s no other person or substance to abuse,
When the gate keeper never appears,
And you’re stuck only with forever to look over your years,
When the silent voice inside your head,
Reveals to you that you are dead…
What then I ask: when you cannot die for living?
When you cannot rest for sinning…
No matter your creed, your race or your gender,
It’s not some creator, but yourself, that will remember.
It’s you that must deal with the actions you now take for light,
Stuck in eternity with nothing but self hatred and spite,
Though this eternity may seem far off or quite odd,
It’s only because now you walk atop the sod…
But close your eyes, and I beg you heed this:
If those eyes never opened could you lie forever in bliss?