Dark Muse
12-03-2012, 11:46 PM
Between Life and Death
Was it you or I
who died that day?
I seem to forget
as the memories start to fall away,
but I know only one of us lived,
yet so lost in this dream
I begin to lose track of myself
and this thing called reality.
Everything appears to me
as if passing upon a train
and the glass melts into liquid
so the world is silhouetted reflections,
is this life?
We held hands once,
there was something like a touch,
a breath of warmth
before the cold descended
and everything became hazy,
perhaps we are both dead
in our own way.
There was a statue
in a garden and it bore a resemblance
to you, and I thought for a moment
maybe death is being transformed
into stone.
But I could never return
to that place again
and so I began to wonder,
I will never know if I was really there
or if it was all a fairy tale,
but what do I learn from this?
The facts become irrelevant
at this stage and the truth
is as illusionary as ever,
there is only the possibilty
that somewhere you are there
in life or death, and somewhere
I am here, and that it is an impossibility
for the two of us to reside
on the same plane at the same time.
Was it you or I
who died that day?
I seem to forget
as the memories start to fall away,
but I know only one of us lived,
yet so lost in this dream
I begin to lose track of myself
and this thing called reality.
Everything appears to me
as if passing upon a train
and the glass melts into liquid
so the world is silhouetted reflections,
is this life?
We held hands once,
there was something like a touch,
a breath of warmth
before the cold descended
and everything became hazy,
perhaps we are both dead
in our own way.
There was a statue
in a garden and it bore a resemblance
to you, and I thought for a moment
maybe death is being transformed
into stone.
But I could never return
to that place again
and so I began to wonder,
I will never know if I was really there
or if it was all a fairy tale,
but what do I learn from this?
The facts become irrelevant
at this stage and the truth
is as illusionary as ever,
there is only the possibilty
that somewhere you are there
in life or death, and somewhere
I am here, and that it is an impossibility
for the two of us to reside
on the same plane at the same time.