The Art of Dying

Breathing slowly, mechanical heartbeat Losing contact with the living Almighty TV plugged, hybrid empty brain Don't see anything real in the game The tension is building constantly No reason, just a reflex I have, driven by clockwork I try to keep an eye open, and I realize I haven't closed my eyes in a long time Neglected emotions leading to catastrophic voyage on the other side I have been given so much stress and lack of confidence I've been given the gift of so small hope deep inside I haven't closed my eyes in a long time, I am trying I cannot stomach these forms and colors anymore But I'm here to continue after all I have been through I try to keep my eyes open, I am realizing This life and death more precious than anything I won't bring no materials in the afterlife Take no possessions, I would rather travel light I'm of this kind that kills all day But I don't know yet how to die Art of dying is the way to let all go Within I practice in the secret of my soul My shape in the reflector has now forever Life on its own