This/life

Is aways

Beginning,

Always

Ending.

‍

Aways being born,

Always passing away,

With nothing

In between.

‍

The illusion

Of in between

Is where I lives,

Ever fearful

Of the end,

Of the impending

Darkness,

Where I am not.

‍

But the darkness,

The empty

Nothingness

So feared by me,

Is the light!

‍

Turns out..

The light

And the dark

Are not two.

‍

This aliveness

Claimed as mine

Is already dead,

It was never a

Matter of life

Or death.

‍

Darkness is nothing,

Light is everything.

Nothing

Is nothing

To fear.

‍

And everything

Is nothing.

‍