The Death Of Me – Life’s Poetry

 

The Death Of Me –  Life’s Poetry 

 

 

Of course, we are but humans, we feel things,

Virulently, yet ever so sweetly.

Of course, we are only human,

But what then? with each emotion we feel things ever so deeply;

And I am hoping that you feel me.

Of course, I am but a man, yet my animal nature, it precedes me,

Yes I am only a man, learning the art of self mastery.

This one residing within, releasing him to be free,

And although I am but a man;

May the one within beseech me.

May he remind of this truth which set me free,

That death only comes to the one who fails to love first himself.

May he express his soul’s desires, to such fulfillment as he may dream,

For life, it is all that it may seem to a man until it is gone;

And although we are but men, we seek to be alive, we seek eternity.