An Ode to the Survivors
I'm not sure where this one comes from or even really what it means, but it always produces some strange and strong feelings in me when I read it.
Ode to the Survivors
Some people thrive at the end of the world, but maybe not the ones you think.
They are not the strong nor the cruel nor the merely kind.
They are those who do not fear pain.
They are those who have already died and seen from the other side.
For them the end-of-all-things comes as a relief -- not in some Zenlike, stoic way, but because at last things are as they are: fleeting, quick and transparent – ethereal and silent.
When finally the silence wins, life can begin again in fits and starts – thoughts turned flesh as the flesh melts away -- raw, exposed and naïve.
At the end of the world there is nothing left to fear.
Ode to the Survivors
Some people thrive at the end of the world, but maybe not the ones you think.
They are not the strong nor the cruel nor the merely kind.
They are those who do not fear pain.
They are those who have already died and seen from the other side.
For them the end-of-all-things comes as a relief -- not in some Zenlike, stoic way, but because at last things are as they are: fleeting, quick and transparent – ethereal and silent.
When finally the silence wins, life can begin again in fits and starts – thoughts turned flesh as the flesh melts away -- raw, exposed and naïve.
At the end of the world there is nothing left to fear.
