T
he beauty of going down,
can you feel it, in your pulsating, trembling cells?
What is past has to perish,
Ready to drown in darkness,
not into oblivion,
just back home
into the unknown.
To rise,
transformed and altered,
after gone through death,
through the dark nights of the soul.
The last day shifted into heavenly nothingness,
Shining bright,
Leaving traces through space
and time.
Without roots,
just transcendent memory.