The end of existence is only the beginning of a mental bondage with the soil from which we all rose| Last days become an everlasting recorded pixel| Those scriptures penned can only free your soul when nature is far from existence| The days pass by as the years fade past the months| Sitting lonesome| No one to hear your cries| No one to feel your pain| The sadness darkness caused| The flood from the rainy days| The eyes dissecting shadows| The eyes restating sorrows| Those illusions in the far feel like reality when happiness lacks| All you need is to dream for a better day| Then you will wake to a better tomorrow| For there are unfilled spaces in the masterpiece of your life's canvas left to paint|