Not A Cynic, A Realist

Sins of the flesh be laid upon the Soul when put to rest.

Highly regarded, “Not a cynic, a realist”

Strike me down haunting figure I can not see.

You are only a shadow casted by this life that God granted me.

The light from Above rains down bright, eclipsing you, Death, from line of sight.

For it is the Giver that can only take.

The Breather breath forsake.

Your business is to collect, but my soul..oh not yet.

You hide in the dark, creeping through black,

while my Creator emblazons my track.

Out of your shadow be my path for awhile,

though one day I know we’ll meet.

On that day, my last,

we’ll look back on no act undone and purpose complete.

I’ll say to you “I lived it through and now more will live true”.

Because you death, are not omnipresent, but it’s me, Life!

remaining triumphant! Dared I did, Unquiet, my voice I never hid,

strike me down and silence will no longer exist.

Scream in their minds, “yes!”

and your shadow they’ll forget, because death when we unite,

all will hear the resounding call to dance with Life.

Us in the next will listen to them each sing their beautiful song tuned in their hearts all along.

May they find that place where the limit isn’t sky or time.

Death or Life.

Where passions join eternal sublime.