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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-05-04 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
What is death? One might think of it as
the beginning of the end, or is it the end of what had begun? The state where those who pass lie in and those who live know nothing of. The realm of the unknown is what follows. The uncertainty concerning the after-life only serves to fill me with fear. A fear that leads me to think of a life’s accomplishments vanished. The subject matter generates different notions that I would much rather hide from. The thought of ceasing to exist, of others going on without one’s presence and the world becoming a distant memory. In time, Death shall seek and it shall find, while I ponder about when it will be my time. Then it will be impossible for me to hide and all that will be left is to shake Death’s hand.
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