To Fear Death

To fear death is to fear breath.

The inevitable is memorable.

In this, I begin to live, I'm able to forgive

Those who trespass on my path.

Do you understand? No, your face is bland.

No emotion, no thought, in your mouth the fly is caught.*

I don't need your approval, just a spot removal

To be rid of the spit that you laid in the pit**

At my feet in regards to your defeat

Against the knowledge I dispell to reduce what you see as hell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* Ever heard the phrase, "Close your mouth before you catch a fly." Well, yeah.

**This has to do with the past; whenever people didn't like you, they'd either spit at your feet, spit on you, or spit in your name. Sort of like trying to curse you, you know?

This poem has to do with people fearing death. I don't fear death, I see it as a gift. Death is inevitable, like breathing. When it comes, it comes, no reason to fear it. I feel that death is as much a gift as life is.

Think of it this way, if you fear death, you're basicly fearing the future.