Why,
would I seek life?
For,
be I not,
this breathing being?
Be I not,
this human entity?
What,
be life,
externally?
What be,
that which,
I need seek?
For,
power be only,
tethered to death.
To,
seeking within,
the depths.
To,
attempting to,
become more,
every step.
But,
this external existence.
These,
false external realities.
Such,
seems a figment.
A,
grand illusion.
A,
waste of anomalistic,
time.
Such,
seems to be,
the antithesis of life.
Seems,
to alter such.
Alter,
the whole,
till within,
be there no soul.
Why?
Why,
exist in such,
a way?
Why,
believe anything?
Why,
become this,
willingly slave?
This,
which seeks life,
each second.
This,
which truly never,
breathes.
This,
which shall never,
be free.
Never,
be alive...
©yungb123
Y