contemplating mortality.
my life becomes reality.
death comes dressed as animosity.
a heart pouring over with hospitality
invaded by an ugly abnormality,
this heart becomes touched by brutality
without formality.
so full of alacrity,
now, in actuality,
we become concerned with fatality.
existing in the shadows of the lethality
there lies a duality:
saddened by such a dark possibility,
but uplifted by a spirituality,
a passion, a thirst for my own vitality.
in my memory
i remember docility.
i'm overcome with images of ethereality,
diaphaneity,
haecceity.
and i crumble beneath the atrocity
of this cellular captivity.
i beg to believe in some deity
so i might plead for her avidity,
for her to be rid of this impurity,
but i'm left with nothing but incredulity.

contemplating my mortality.
i don't understand the complexity,
but i feel the gravity.
paralyzed by a spiritual immobility,
helpless, filled with incomprehensibility.
i have a responsibility
to make myself believe the value of my life is outlined in incontrovertibility,
and death is an inevitability.
no one knows anything of eternity,
and not one of us is touched by invincibility.
my mind will never be in a complete state of lucidity,
but i learn to keep myself open to love's luminosity,
to continue to be moved by such beauty.
i want to fight the enmity,
but now realise this is an impossibility.
so i resolve to accept my humanity,
and be grateful to be touched by a soul filled with such magnamity.

contemplating mortality.
herein lies my insanity.
such futility.