Life is but a Waiting Room

Lying on our death beds, we are simply waiting to die;
waiting for death to take our heads, awaiting that final goodbye.
We mournfully assume it is our role to sadly moan and groan;
constantly trying to fill that hole, always fighting the unknown alone.

This constant inner turmoil violently infects my life.
It is always so deathly exhausting living with this constant strife.
The pain I feel is burning, causing my heart to ache.
I’m overwhelmed with the weariness of being dreadfully awake.

In image form:

Life is but a Waiting Room

3 thoughts on “Life is but a Waiting Room

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