Italian

I'm on the road to nowhere!

"Fools may become wise"

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Poem - or at least an attempt
Italian
sw33tf00l
Is this how it goes?

Me, drifting as they drift also, some fading beyond reach
Some destroyed too soon, ravaged by the dark & pain.

Life, like energy, continues.. Vital, harsh, desperate.
Life cares not for feeling, only existence, not its level.
From microbe, to the highest levels of universal consciousness.

Is this what we call life?

What we call it matters not.

It exists.

It is.

Cares not that I observe, nor that I am.
Or if I was not.

It is.

?

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