Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

we expel our breath,
another second of our life
dissipates into the swirling wind

but it does not-a-bit of good
to keep a running tally, our last
gasp will come soon enough

our lungs will feed the maggots
the bait boys will toss the maggots into the salty water
to draw the mackerel, the fisherman will reel in the catch

of the day, to feed the hungry children, the cycle of life
needn't be impending doom, the clock of humanity must spin
its uneven hands....two arrows above means it's over,

your time here on earth lacks a working body of flesh and muscle,
but somewhere across the horizon in a purple haze explosion
a new life is just beginning...the stroke of midnight

is a brand new day

fuck ... ya just had to bring that up -

I'm for a sky burial....let them vultures have me...

The title itself is a miniature poem.

Everything that follows is true.

we expel our breath,
another second of our life
dissipates into the swirling wind

but it does not-a-bit of good
to keep a running tally, our last
gasp will come soon enough

Good theme done well

life in the moment,
feeling the cold claws sink in,
nothing's better than this way,
and where you think it ends... it begins~

lost in some ancient jungle...
no time to know what time it is,
no X's marked on this-here map,
where one moment dies, and another lives~

as long as i'm breathing
there's now
now's alright
for now