Is death a necessary evil?
Does it make the time we have,
this chaotic upheaval,
shorter, yet sweeter?
Do we need death?
As a contrast to moving feeling life,
a swift, glorious breath,
a fleeting glimpse of beauty.
I walked many paths,
I climbed many mountains,
heard many tinkling laughs,
and chased many dreams.
And yet, as the end
draws close and I feel the cold,
round the trees bend,
I cannot help but wonder.
Is it a sin to chase fireflies,
those creatures of dream,
and watch them as the time flies,
along with all my thoughts?
Wasn’t it but yesterday,
when I sat on the mountain
and watched night bloom from day,
and made a wish upon a shooting star?
Spring turned to summer,
I danced in the rains,
Fall was crisp and sombre,
And now in my life there is winter.
It seems as though the gods,
or the abstract concept of one,
Saw me frolic in the garden of dreams,
And decided my time was done.
What did I achieve
in this period on the island?
What did I do, what did I believe?
Was it all just a waste of time?
Alas, these shall remain unanswered,
For look: the dark clouds gather,
and as I shut my eyes for the last time,
I slowly ascend.
[Note: This poem is not meant to be taken seriously and merely chronicles the experience of playing the game Proteus, the closest I’ve gotten to a spiritual experience while playing a game. Seriously, check it out.]