The Book of the Dead.

The darkness shows us what's real, what's true within ourselves.
The light luminates our mask that we wear.
The shadows seen is only what we want everyone else to see, just shapes and images we project.
If you really want to get to know someone; count their scars, meet them in their darkest room. Only then will you see their real face.

Rework.
Original:3/13/25

It's like I am floating outside my body,
Like I am separated from my physical self, I am here, but I am not.

It's like I'm high, but I didn't take anything.
So odd, it's relieving but also numbing,
like a creeping death inking my soul.

Allocute to me your transgressions,
and see if I am so inclined to pardon you from your punishment.
Fitting you shall lay in the filth you saddled me with.
My heart and mind will not be soiled, cry all you like, you will have nothing but that which you gave me; which was nothing.

I'm alive,
Just trying to exist in the misery that is my life.
Living lowly,
Without many things,
No friends or family that give a damn,
That would make anyone depressed.

I look at the state of the world, and I am disgusted.
Just my corner of it is disappointing and disturbing.
Most people upset and confuse me,
The only people I connect with are philosophers and Rockstars.

I exist, I live, nobody said I have to like it, let alone be happy about it.
I lead a very isolating life, I choose it now because I don't really understand humanity as a whole, or the way people do things.
Everything frankly just pisses me off, so I stay to myself however alone that may make me.

I don't hold onto life,
Life won't let go of me.

It's not anger,
It's madness from all this suffering.

I'm not sad,
I am just empty.

There is no purpose or reason for me, for being, pain only tells me that I still have a long way to go,
For the dead don't feel,
And the time won't cease.

The sun shines,
The flowers grow,
Life moves on,
As I grow old.

The wind hugs the day,
The birds sing away,
But my sorrow stays,
Like the tears; it remains.

And scars to skin,
Breath and pain,
Just living until my own death day.

When cold will embrace me,
no more light to my face,
Nor words of sadness,
Or emptiness in its wake.

When the blood doesn't move,
And the eyes stay in place,
Where my mind sleeps eternally,
And I rest in an infinity.

No need for love,
no need for grace,
just peace in the nothingness, laying in an endless sea of space.

No more hanging my hat,
or me laying shoes by the mat,
no more setting clocks,
or packing lunch.

No more writing,
and no more words,
for when I die, my sorrow will leave this world.

Look I got up today, yes I ate, really I did.
Look I went to work, and no I'm not sore.

See I made it through the day, I didn't cry much, I didn't take a bunch of pills, or scream in your ear.

See I didn't yell, or create more fear,
now aren't you glad? You can sleep well.

It only took everything I am, and now I have more scars, just sitting here bleeding again, but yes I'm alive, aren't you glad?

Did I make everyone else's day?
Aren't you happy?
Then great!

It only hurts me living this useless existence, suffering all these triggers again.
I am the one in the dark, with a heart torn apart, but hey I'm still breathing, that's all anyone cares about.

So tired, there are no more words.
I am waiting for the ending to this sick story that is mine, hoping this is the last time I'll feel anything,
just falling into the black, detaching myself from everyone and everything, all so I don't feel anything they do to me.

But hey I'm alive, saw another birthday, and I didn't look for your call,
now aren't you glad?

There are no silver linings,
no light to be found,
my life is my life,
the darkness is all around.

One day when all of this is over,
perhaps then it will be understood,
that the ones made of shadows,
stay as shadows,
no light will ever know them, it never could.

I'm not sad... I'm just un.. happy.

Man is pulled to copulation to pass on parts of themselves, ideas, beliefs and wisdoms.

Emotionally things are set this way, that the human race continues.

Death pulls man to finish their own circles around the earth, and this usually happens before the individual knows that they are going to die.

Then the hunger stops, doom encases their mind, and they stop seeking life saving measures, man will withdrawal from everything when death comes to them.

Is it at this time that the individual is truly alone, only whatever they believe is with them in those final hours.