28.) Journey

                                    

                                          


Trying to pass time,
even though time is passing.
Everyone telling me to calm down,
when I can't even ever feel stress.
Still forging my future crown,
preparing stones to bless.
To hammer into its forming gold,
when all my stories are told.
When my life unfolds.
Like millions of others
I'm still on my journey.
And setbacks won't hurt me.
It's all about the milk and honey.
So just smell the flowers along the way
while you can.
Let your deadlines pass away,
like a dying man.
So that you may live life in the way that it is meant to be lived.
To mush and crush all your mortal worries from your joy, severed and sieved.
For, most of your life will be walking your path to your destiny or fate.
Thus, you may as well love every little moment rather than every day hate.
That's not to say there won't be treasures hidden along the way.
Diamonds and silver illuminated by a sunbeam, a ray.
Alongside these jewels will lay spikes and sticky swamps.
Birthed to make your life hellish, to turn your ambles into clomps. 
You must not let these obstacles deter you.
Simply find allies or band a crew
to help you
push through.
Heed my advice,
keep an immaterial 
memento mori.
For it will remind you of the shortness of life.
Mortality it will signify.
Be not material,
be not avarice,
be metaphysical,
let your soul fly
metaphorically.
Feel right 
when night
might
come to thieve you
away from day,
with all its black and grey.
Feel fulfilled and satisfied,
so that in death you may feel gratified.
For, in death, we will not look back at our lives and care about deadlines.
About dazzling designs
on our clothes
or robes.
Or work.
Or rumours that lurk.
Or anything of this world,
for we will be ascending on to the next.
Writing words that will fill a new book, new text.
In our graves, will only reminisce
on the moments of joy that we miss.
On the memories cherished and treasured, prized.
On the laughter, the light, that have now crystallised.