Literature
Sleep
What waits beyond that starry curtain,
I asked myself afraid of death,
In youth I stood; froze, stunned and struck,
My stomach cold, shewn brutal end.
But fear it drove me answer questions,
Trade pound of flesh for ounce of truth,
I gladly cut, carve, bleed and rend,
Myself, my mind apart; I'm born again.
Cost follows to the grave it seems,
Beyond yet further I believe,
I rave, I rant, I find my center,
What raging gale beyond wits end.
Finally I see through the glass darkly,
That veil it lifts enough to know,
Not in fear I live among thee,
Asleep in torrent, in peace I go.