THERE ARE SECRETS BEYOND THE LAST BREATH

There are secrets

beyond the last breath,

unknown to those

whose beating heart

hides the siren voices beyond flesh;

beyond the chains of blood and bone,

beings older than life itself,

wounds carved across

the fabric of all matter

in the torment of the birthing universe,

call for the dying;

in the silence of the

stilled heart, brain starved

out of oxygen, their voices grow

into a thundering call, as they await,

hungering, these gaping maws

ripped into cosmos, luring

with what could wait beyond,

those intelligences who are fading

back to the non-sentient cosmos.

Paradise and Hell await,

they promise and remind

that all who shall not pass

through their galaxies-wide

mouths shall cease

to be in this universe of death.

There are secrets beyond the last breath,

yes, and lies;

as the people in white

step aside from my death bed

and shake their heads

to unheard questions,

and I let myself go, fleeing

in an aeon-long flight

to the calling voices,

I know, in my existence

beyond flesh and bone,

that no Paradise can wait

in what lies beyond

the patient maws.

I have lived, and know,

as all humans will,

that all hope betrays,

that fear carries truth,

and what has slashed rifts

through this universe

of disappointment

surely must be worse.

Yet I go, desperate, for

near-eternity of flight

in the cold wastes between stars,

is existence, as well, even

if at the end we will be

devoured in Hell.

13.-15.03.2021