An Ode to Burial
What does it mean to be loved?
I wish I didn't know, at times like these.
It's a lot to be hit with, when people carry heavy hearts. These are certainly heavy times, so I can't resent them. Life and death and love and loss, the epic things that happen every day in not-so-epic surroundings, weave the stories of our lives. Maybe your volume will end early, maybe your volume will weigh too much for you alone to bear. Maybe if it's too much to be borne, you can be born again, somewhere new.
Death and ends make us cry, but we forget about the new beginnings that lie below, or perhaps, are just, as everything, solely a matter of perspective. You're looking down at me, man, but I'm looking up at you. And like a runaway nuclear core, let your heavy heart burn with a passion right through your chest, and join me here in the earth.
I wish I didn't know, at times like these.
It's a lot to be hit with, when people carry heavy hearts. These are certainly heavy times, so I can't resent them. Life and death and love and loss, the epic things that happen every day in not-so-epic surroundings, weave the stories of our lives. Maybe your volume will end early, maybe your volume will weigh too much for you alone to bear. Maybe if it's too much to be borne, you can be born again, somewhere new.
Death and ends make us cry, but we forget about the new beginnings that lie below, or perhaps, are just, as everything, solely a matter of perspective. You're looking down at me, man, but I'm looking up at you. And like a runaway nuclear core, let your heavy heart burn with a passion right through your chest, and join me here in the earth.
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