Death to Self

It is in dying that we're born
Under great weight we stand up straight
It is of living that I warn.

A painless life is a unicorn
To anesthetize is to amputate.
It is in dying that we're born.

Life's burden is useless to scorn
And wasted breath will only obviate.
It is of living that I warn.

Only when hungry, cold, and worn
Can we hear life's quiet music reverberate.
It is in dying that we're born.

Artificial light, clothes untorn,
Synthetic comfort will but nauseate.
It is of living that I warn.

Smell the earth, enjoy the thorn
Release control and lay down prostrate.
It is in dying that we're born.
It is of living that I warn.