Woe, of the dead.
Because we fear death.
We miss life and covet it,
even as we are drenched in its essence.
Happiness for love,
as we are joyful of the prospect,
and endeavour to own it.
We never want to let it go.
If we realise there is no such thing as undeniable truth.
Then our hearts and minds stay open,
as irrefutable truth means one thing,
that everything else in relation is false.
Accepting that we are merely and satisfactorily a reflection of this glorious world.
But in observation of water as a reflection,
we realise that many reflections are jaded,
dusty, dispersed and convoluted in general.
So each as a reflection shines back differently,
meaning each irrefutable truth is different,
therefore anything you hold onto is FALSE.
But false in itself is negative truth.
And everything is, until it isn’t,
Or it isn’t until it is.
Or somethings are until they aren’t
And others aren’t until they are.
Each is a reflection,