We all love a warm bed,
On a cold day, long stretch of work,
Give ourselves completely to sleep, rest heads,
Transported into another world, dream stork.
Yet at the end of a long life,
Days, weeks, months, years compiled,
Anxiety sets in, with Father time we strife,
Struggling to crawl back before history’s filed.
Sleep isn’t feared for we know to what we return,
Existence after life is uncertain so crisis occurs,
But just as sleep ends a day, death, life must adjourn,
To give one enough rest to invest in the next venture, entrepreneurs,
Whether it be emptiness, reincarnation, or another dimension,
Dive into death dream, preparing for worst, hoping for best.
This post originally appeared on my website.