No time to stop and stare.
Life must carry on without worrying about the dead
For it is too transient and brief a state
After and before the infinity
Of non-existence.
We will join them soon
All the ones who are spent.
Death is not the aberration to ponder
But instead the inexplicable spark
Which occasionally runs through it
So brief so wild
There is no plot, no great design
No time to stop and despair
Just enough to be bright.
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