Is death the end, or the birth of a new?
The final breath, or the first of truth?
It seems so easy, this slipping away
yet what lies beyond, none can say.
The final breath, or the first of truth?
It seems so easy, this slipping away
yet what lies beyond, none can say.
Is life a circle, or a single line?
Do we fade, or simply realign?
The stars, the seas, the breath, the flame
all whisper softly the same refrain:
Nothing truly ends, nor stays apart,
the universe loops within the heart.
It starts, it ends, it starts again
a circle, unbroken, without pain.
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