Nirvana in the midst of pain

I stare at the rotten mess of a body that I've turned myself into....

I feel like telling myself that it's okay to be...

Just to be....

My brain disintegrates into the cosmos of nothingness.

The stars in this world, of lost consciousness, feel like magic....

And the black hole that's pulling me in is just the entrance to a new world, were someone would tell me that it's okay to be me...

The glamour of the white sun there would drive out the drunken stutter of the darkness into a splendid bliss of spring trees, but how ironic will it be....

I'd still have my time limits, for my body rots in an empty ground guarded by death and autumn leaves.