Death, you are the great mystery.
You defy all that we are.
You've been given too much power
as if you were the star.
But you're nothing more than a passing
that prepares us for new birth.
You never were a shining star.
You just sever us from the earth.
Death you're not the great mystery.
You are nothing to be feared.
You come and go just like the wind
and take those who are endeared.
So step down. Take the the back seat.
Give up your scareful throne.
For the greatest mystery that we have
is releasing fear of the unknown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love when you said: 'But you're nothing more than a passing that prepares us for new birth.' I deeply admire this poem as a whole. It calms my fears about dying and physical pain. These things are only threatening if you allow them to be.