Posted in Blog, Life, Original Poetry, Writing

This Has Already Come

Everybody dies.
You can’t save yourself.
There is nothing wrong in death,
but the sadness we give it,
the darkness from ourselves,
from others,
the things that never were
or will never be again.
You have already died,
but you don’t know it yet.
You feel it though.
Dead and alive
and dead again.
The whole world rejuvenating
and withering and breathing.
Everybody dies.
I have already done so,
I died a long time ago.
I am dying right now.
You can’t save me.

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