Have all passed away
There is only the breathing left
When everything the world tells you
Of what a man is,
Then what is left?
What is left?
And if I listen to that world
The one that tells me what I am and who I am
Without regard to the spirit within me
Then I am doomed to perdition
I hate that land
I will not walk upon it
Who knows who I am besides the one within me?
Who else tells me who I am besides the one, true voice?
There is my choice
To dwell in peaceful acceptance that though my shell be just a shell
My being is grand and eternal light
This, my friends, is how we walk through the night
This is how we thrive
In the crisis