Give Death a Little Credit, Please

Return to the earth
On the brown side of the grass
While working on the perfect smile
This too shall pass

You don't want it unless you can have it
But you've had it
At times, hated it
At others, lusted after sensations
For the most part, however, it was more or less an alternating binary of confusion and boredom
Regardless, the memory of joy simply doesn't compare
To the reality of sorrow
The memory of pain is simply that, a memory
And the sensation of a loosening grip
Is only acutely displeasing if one is afraid of the consequences of letting go
So let go

If you were to fall from the third floor of a building
The only way to save yourself from certain death
Would be to relax yourself completely
Any tenseness whatsoever would spell your doom
Knowing this, in that instant you would have a choice, albeit a difficult one
You could save yourself if you could find a way to let go of your precious fear
The safety of sadness and self-pity couldn't save you
The choice would be up to you, in a split second
The choice would be yours

To pass your weapon to the left
Kick the barn door closed
Forever, until whenever
Or transcend whatever
It would be possible
Techincally, probable (to a slight degree)

Truth is, no one really knows what they would do unless they are put in a situation like that
But when we do, it will be real
One day we all will face ourselves--our minds, our maker
Everything we've set aside for later; everything we could have done better, could have put more effort into but wouldn't be troubled with at the time
It will all come eventually, and that too shall pass

This, I'm sure of
What it will sound like, smell like, feel like, mean, seem, or lead to, that I have no idea
But it will be real
And that's really all anyone has ever wanted
And that's really all that really matters