The reality of death

What is the truth?

Drunk and crazed in a solitary haze he stumbles through empty rooms a stumble bum mumbling the latest plea God shine a light on me — a preposterous request to be sure a silent voice in a noisy universe from an invisible man on a speck of sand not even remotely a mote in the eye of infinity and thus realizing this he amends the plea to Show me the way God — harking a song by Peter Frampton 🎶 Who can I believe in? / I’m kneeling on the floor / There has to be a force / Oh won’t you show me the way 🎶 — as the beseeching melody of lostness wails for the world to hear except God it seems so woebegone the drunken man wailing in the wilderness on the eight hundred and eighty-first day of her death (!!!!!!!!) the same song sung by a chorus of lost souls throughout the ages — Oh Lord hear our plea a fervent prayer to eternity a longing to embrace Hail Mary full of grace Ava Maria Virgin of the sky to know the truth we will die.

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