Funerary Vision from Seven Keys to the Discomfort of Being

Whitest of lights Deafening silence What if it ends Before I get there? The great release The last and final gift No aftertaste, no present state Intangible and eerie Snow coated mountain tops A breath that leaves the mouth A side view figure wearing white And no sensations after A scolding hot tear down the cheek The salty taste, familiar A word that's inexpressible For someone dear Fading, unrecognizable Suspended in nothingness And I give in to Deeply nauseating fear Of spanless open space Realization of your own mortality Fighting with ego Once walked Once breathed Once saw, believed Once thought Once craved Imagine catastrophes Envision bodies Await, believe and harbor Thoughts disembodied And all the frowning faces Of those who mourn their loss Once made mistakes Now empty space Almost surreal Practically numb As if I force myself To grieve for things That haven't happened As if I force Myself To grieve for things that haven't happened Following the footsteps Etched in the gleaming snow All the pine trees and the icebergs No one of us could see before The peace and quiet, long awaited Might seem too much to bear Consuming wounds, preparing space The bodies bruised are laid to rest And sleep in silence Undisturbed and quiet