what is life sans soul bereft of pleasure or pain
akin to a pot with neither worth nor use
helpless and mewling in the maelstorm in vain
what is life with neither purpose nor honourable ruse
flailing in past hurtling to future dark
is that reality a path to the skeleton stark
the ever present omen the fear of death
it is so scary yet has seductive stealth
a fear of death is right so instinct says
yet how it is the fear with temptation does mate
is that right? a part of human ways
where the death scares yet brings all expectations met
what is it that i do want
my life or the death i shunt
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