Prose Poem
Standing in front of a cracked glass creaking as it breaks the fragile wall of fortitude. A sweet, distinct melody clears my unsound mind. I remain unknown to this forthcoming disaster. Is ignorance truly bliss? I could run away but my tedious efforts might as well be in vain. Or I could stay and bask in the glory of tranquil benightedness. My idea of a grand ending is not to fear but to feel everything all at once.
Heaven and hell are imagined lairs of the living. Where you depart after you are humbly diminished to dust is a place I would like to call -- 'bliss'. You prosper in a realm where you are reborn as your truest self. The wonders and tragedies of the monotonous world do not concern you any longer. You are granted a chance to relinquish the old and embrace the new. You are not alone; you are bound by a found family.
I haven't the faintest clue as to why people fear death. It is an inevitable, universal truth. Things are not born to last an eternity. They are born to leave behind a legacy unscathed for ages to come. Passionately cascading through life and gracefully accepting death. Isn't that a priceless luxury?
Reckoning it is the 'be all, end all' is a colossal misapprehension. It is alright if the universe collapses on itself; it is alright if the sun incinerates us to ashes; it is alright if the moon and the stars coalesce into collision; it is alright if the sky strikes the ground; it is alright if there is no shimmering dawn to the dimming dusk; it is alright if the world wreaks an apocalypse; it is alright if there is no tomorrow. The end is just another beginning. Isn't it? Realise.
