When the clouds do rock

The moon does shine

Such torpid mortal lives

Bustle about, about nothing at all

I am the same, the same as them all…

Yet, my eyes, so sullen…

They see through life,

How simple and stupid we all are

It scares me to think that no God may be waiting

No gates that shall open

No judgment of my life

That even the hellfires are made of only myth

This life after-death seems too good to be true

So miraculous it must be false

As I watch us,

Made of dust from space

We scuttle about,

Our lives so much more complicated than we need

We wrap ourselves in our worries

No time to ponder of such fears

Is death simply us blending back into nature,

Our true heritage?

Or is it where our minds enter the kingdom of Heaven

The utopia we seek

My head screams

My tears blur everything

Why must we live…

Why must we…die?