It is the fear by which all fears are fed,
The certainty one day you will lie dead.
Such fear is groundless, some might call it rot:
Consider, where death is there you are not.
Truly, this should have no power to scare,
Like you, it will be neither here nor there.
Just wait, the harmless truth shall be revealed,
You flourished as a flower of the field.
You won’t be struggling for a breath of air,
Or fretting in the dust, still half-aware.
Fear not, there’s no foul limbo in-between
The fact that you once were and now have been.
There is one who evokes this comedy
Precisely and entire, most perfectly
Don’t speak of hell or everlasting bliss,
I simply want to be where Mozart is.
