Death, Birth, Rebirth Poem by Nate Tulay

Those first 25 years that we love so much,
are neither sound or real, a prelude to our
forgotten lives, they haunt us, day and night —
And so all we do, is run and hide, run and hide
from what we are, and who we truly desire to be.

Darling, those first 25 years that I miss so much,
were just a pre-sleep to my real life. A pre-sleep
to what I am, and who I desire to be at my core.
And so all we do, is sleep and forget, sleep
and forget what we are, and who we once were.

Beloved, to live with CONSCIENCE is too
painful for some, better and easier to grow
up with the God of the Moon.