we are the recycled atoms from eons ago
our minds echoing with immortality
just a deception...some *know* the truth, most do not

once a man *knows* that
he came from nothing and
his demise will be nothing
at the moment of realization, his vision blurs
his beliefs shatters

life is an interim, that he *knows*
alas, the overall truth pulls him down
the *nothing* calls...to his domain
the call he can perceive, but the planes ahead
...trying to realize that...in vain

"if this is a ride" the man supposes,
then tells himself: "then i should just enjoy it"
although there is *knowing* in his thoughts, in his beliefs
there lies a technicality
called the real life

years after, he wonders
if he was all along the ride
or there existed anyone in his time,
that really enjoyed the ride

the uncertainty makes the man implode