Nirvana
For years, I dreamt of a land.
Far away from this one,
Where people live forever
An immortal land beyond the stars.
But a cold chill came to my consciousness
And told me that my ideas were flawed.
No place existed where we can be free
From sorrow and death.
A queen’s ransom is paid to assuage
My supple longing to feel flesh,
To feel the warm sun upon my hair,
To be wrapped in the wind.
Piteous blackness waits for me
Writhing against my temporal existence
Pulling me into the nothingness
That waits for me beyond the pale
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