I have not looked for it nor did I find
The reason why we live, or die, the kind
Of questions we are bound to ask. I won’t
Go into any details why I don’t
Want such intrusions targeting my mind.
But every now and then I hesitate:
Should I not care more of my kind of fate,
And mind. Can all those many priests be wrong
And have they been mistaken all along,
Is it too early to find out, or just too late?
I have not looked for it and didn’t mind
But recently I’m having doubts, the kind
You have when someone has a certain date
With death. The darkness felt as heavy weight,
We stand before eternity. Aligned.