Feel the breathing, the pumping heart.
Certainty lies within the life of lifeblood.
Many mistake life for being theirs to do what they please.
The laugh of greater things echo as they realize they were wrong.
Life is not yours to take.
How that was planted is a wrong accusation.
Life is so much more then a measly existence,
More than merely touched by deeper thoughts
Much more then a beating heart or pulsing blood.
More than the ache of weak bones and flesh.
Existence is to acquire more than the dust around.
So upon return, it is more than dust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem